


The Librarians and the Countess of Blood

by LadyMarianne123



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 42,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMarianne123/pseuds/LadyMarianne123
Summary: A book has suddenly appeared, one lost for centuries, one that should have stayed lost. Now it's up to the Librarians to find it before any more deaths can be attributed to it - and destroy it before it destroys them.





	1. The Clipping Book

Jacob Stone flipped through yet another of the innumerable books of art and architcture that the Great Library contained, making notes as he did so. The Annex's central room (with its large table) made an excellent place to spread out his materials, allowing him to compare information from the various tomes. The Annex itself was quiet with all the other Librarians ensconced in archives all through the Library, working on their own projects. Flynn and Baird, along with Jenkins, were walking through the lower levels, discussing better security for their valuable collections. Ever since DOSA's attempt to strip the Library of its magical artifacts by force and Nicole Noone's attempt to out right destroy the facility, Baird had been on a quest to make sure security was strengthened. Stone had chosen not to participate in the walk-through, knowing Baird - now the Library's Guardian - would work things out with the others. "Gives me some time alone" he thought, closing one book and opening another. "Been meaning to do this research for ages..."

Suddenly the Clippings Book, which had been mysteriously silent for weeks, began to rattle in its stand, light shining as pages were quickly turned. An eerie sound emanated from the book - as though the pages had come to life and were screaming. Stone stared, dumbfounded, as the sound from the now levitating book grew louder and louder. "What the hell?" he called out, trying to pull the volume back to its stand.

Behind him, the other librarians, Cassandra and Ezekiel, came skidding to a stop at the entrance to the room, watching in amazement as the Clippings Book fought to free itself from Stone's grip. "Jake - what are you doing?" Cassandra called out, her voice high and nervous.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Stone shouted down, annoyed. "This thing's about to take flight!"

The Annex's back door picked that moment to start to rattle - an indication that someone or something was trying to enter. "Are we expecting guests?" Ezekiel asked, eyes in the controls to the door.

"No! Now get your asses over here and help me hold this damn book down!" Stone called out, trying to maintain his grip on the volume.

The two younger librarians raced to help him, each grabbing on to a part of the book and trying to pull it down. "Maybe we should get Flynn?" Cassandra huffed, fingers cramping as the tome tried to wrestle free of her grip.

The back door suddenly began to revolve rapidly, then opened to a woodland scene that all three recognized. In the entrance was King Arthur, Lord of the Fae and his father, the warlord Vladimir. They stepped through and looked around, eyeing the struggle in the corner of the room with interest. "Is this a bad time?" Arthur quipped, watching the Librarians in amusement. Both he and his father were in their standard medieval-style garb - tunics and dark pants - with Arthur's longish hair caught back by a silver circlet around his forehead.

"Funny man" Stone snarled, pushing the book down onto the table. "This thing has just gone crazy and is trying to launch itself into orbit!"

Arthur eyed the Clippings book with interest. "Sile. Animæquior esto. Omnis bene est." he whispered, moving a hand over the book. "Be Still, Be at Peace. All is well." The book ceased to struggle, laying flat on the table with no further sign of life. "There - that's better."

"Do I want to know how you did that?" Stone asked, eyeing the book suspiciously.

"No" Arthur responded mildly. "You wouldn't understand it even if I could tell you. So - where is my old friend? I expected him to be puttering around at something when I arrived. He usually is." 

Stone wasn't sure whether to laugh or be annoyed. It only made sense that the first person Arthur would ask about would be Jenkins. After all, as Galahad, the immortal Knight of the Round Table , Jenkins had once been Arthur's dearest friend and right hand in the fight to claim a kindom (and tame the wild magic surrounding it) for the man whose name he had borrowed, the man who would eventually be known in legend as King Arthur of the Round Table. "He, Baird and Flynn are downstairs working on security issues."

"Not for long" Ezekiel quipped. "We heard the Clipping book - and our books by the way - having a nervous breakdown all over the library. So I'm betting they will be up any second..." His voice trailed away as the Librarian, his Guardian and the library's immortal Caretaker skidded to a stop in the room.

Jenkins rolled his eyes at the sight of his friend. "I should have known it would be you" he said. "You simply can't make a quiet entrance anywhere, can you?"

Arthur laughed. "This isn't on me, Galais. Your clippings book was hit with a warning of something so dark appearing in the mortal world that it couldn't contain intself."

Vlad, in the meantime, had sauntered over to the table and was reading over Cassandra's shoulder as she looked at the new pages that had appeared. "Yes - I was afraid of this. Arthur, come see. It is as Christoph's crystal said - the book has been found."

"Book?" Flynn asked, a note of excitement in his voice. "What book?"

"Not one you will ever be able to house in this place" Vlad said somberly. "It's evil is so great that when and if you find it your only course of action will be to destroy it utterly."

"Destroy a book?" Cassandra squeeked. "But - we're Librarians! Shouldn't we be trying to preserve it, whatever information it contains?"

"Not this book, little librarian" Vlad said softly. "This book will be the death of many before you can contain it - and if it is not destroyed will be the death of you as well."

"What book is this?" Baird asked, glancing around her with concern.

"A book with an old and bloody history and is now alive again and out in a newly re-energized world of magic power. It is a black grimoire, the Book of Shadows that once belonged to the one of the first documented female serial killers. It is the book of spells belonging to Countess Elizabeth Báthory."


	2. Remembering

Stone stared at Arthur in shock. “The blood Countess? I’ve read a lot of accounts of her actions but thought most of the stories were propaganda. How does this fruitcake from history have anything to do with the clippings in our book?”

“Look at the stories – all about young women disappearing in Hungary – which was Bathory’s home turf. Young teenagers to early twenties – the same ages as Bathory’s victims. And all set out to either tour the country where the Bathory family held sway or had found employment in that area." Arthur looked at his father for a moment then back at the book. “Trust me when I say those stories you heard about her weren’t embellished. Father and I were there just before she was arrested and frankly I’ve been in charnel houses that were less horrifying than that castle.” The King’s face was grim as he stared down at the Librarians, arms crossed across his chest. “Some battlefields were less bloody than those rooms we saw…”

“You were just a boy” Vlad said quietly. “And I should have known better than to let you accompany me into the bowels of that creature’s lair. But you were always stubborn, so determined to do everything I did, to learn about the human world as I knew it. Still – I should have known better.”

“How could you know?” Jenkins responded quietly. “No one knew – not even her cousin, King Matthias, suspected. She was of noble birth and a woman – not two things men of that age automatically associated with blood lust.”

“So – exactly who is this we’re talking about again?” Ezekiel asked, hoping up on the table. “Some sort of vampire type?”

Jenkins sighed. “No Mr. Jones. “Just a mad woman with a penchant for blood and a touch of the old magic in her veins.”

“Penchant for blood?” Stone replied in disbelief. “That’s putting it mildly. She was a Hungarian noblewoman and according to the Guinness Records Book one of the most prolific female murders. She and four co-conspirators were accused of torturing and murdering hundreds of young women between 1585 and 1609. The number of her victims has been debated by scholars but it was said she had made a note in one of her books, identified at trial as her grimoire, of 650 kills. Despite the evidence against her, the Bathory family’s influence managed to keep her from standing trial for her crimes, insisting instead on relegating her to solitary confinement in a windowless room until her death four years after she was arrested.”

“You make that all sound so academic” Vlad replied quietly. “But Arthur and I were there, ground level, to see the horrors she produced. And that book you speak of has never been seen since the trial – and for good reason.”

“Two possible reasons” Flynn interjected. “One – family wanted the evidence to disappear. Or…”

“Or the book was that grimoire you spoke of” Baird said, sitting down at the long table. “I’m betting it’s the latter.”

“You would be correct” Arthur replied somberly, taking a seat beside the Library’s guardian. “The book disappeared during the trial and it’s been long suspected that the Bathory family either hid it away somewhere or destroyed it. Now, I fear, we know which option they chose.”

“Wait – you said you and your father SAW what the Countess had done” Cassandra said excitedly. “But that was almost five hundred years ago!”

“Just how old are you?” Stone asked somberly.

“Old enough to know better” Arthur responded with a slight smile. He pulled out a seat for his father, waving the group to gather around. “But at the time I was – what about ten years old?”

“Give or take a century or so” Vlad replied with a smile. “Young Fae physically age slowly so while you might have looked only about ten you might actually have been anywhere from fifteen years old to fifty. Frankly I’d forgotten, by that time, how old I was much less how old you might have been. And you’d been my squire for so many battles waged against our kind that the years had ceased to matter as much as the attitude.”

“Arthur was your squire at such an early age?” Jenkins asked, surprised. “Well, I suppose that should explain your familiarity with war.”

“When you’ve been from one battlefield to another since you were able to ride a horse – war seems like a normal occurrence. But as I said – that castle was something totally different.” Arthur stared off into space – remembering that visit as though it were yesterday.

Hungary – 1609

“Where are we going to this time, Father?” Arthur asked, looking around him with interest. The boy’s long, dirty-blond hair was hidden by the hood of his thick black cloak – a twin to his father’s and his azure blue eyes were shining with intellect and humor. Riding out with his father for something other than a battle was a rare thing these days so Arthur made sure to enjoy every minute of the time given to him.

Vlad looked down from his saddle with a wry grin. Riding through the Hungarian countryside, even with his son, was an amusement he rarely had time for. His home in the Carpathians was strategically hidden from both the eyes of mortals and other Fae – an advantage he was determined to retain in this time of unrest among his people. But the boy couldn’t be hidden away forever – not if he was to become the leader of his people one day. Vlad was immensely proud of the lad, who had matured quickly (as most exiled Fae children did) and had become not only an excellent marksman but a clever strategist and avid collector of knowledge. Arthur was tall for his age and wiry – a natural athlete his teachers said. One day he would tower over men, just as his father did and hopefully command the same amount of respect, becoming a good ruler for the exile community and perhaps more... But, for now, he was just a young boy in need of some fresh air and exercise – exercise that did not include a battlefield. “We’re going to speak to a Lutheran minister of my acquaintance - István Magyari. King Matthias has had disturbing reports from this man about a member of the Bathory family – Countess Elizabeth, the widow of Ferenc Nádasdy. Allegations have been made of a very disturbing nature and he has asked me to look into them before he must send the Palatine of Hungary to make official inquires.”

Arthur frowned, not quite understanding the connection between the unfamiliar names and his parent. “But why you, father?”

Vlad shrugged. “I assisted him with an Ottoman issue some time ago. As I am NOT a frequent guest at court, and thereby not seen as a threat to his crown, the man trusts me to tell him the absolute truth about what I find.” He stared down at his son with concern. “Now that we are on the road I am loath to allow you to continue to the castle with me. It may be more dangerous than Matthias said.”

Arthur smiled with the self-assurance of youth. “I’m not afraid. Have I not ridden out with you into battle? What can one woman do to me that all our enemies have not?”

Back in the library

“You didn’t say that – really?” Cassandra said with a giggle. “I’m surprised Rowan didn’t scalp you for that.”

“Rowan did not come into our family until several hundred years after this event” Vlad replied with an amused smile. “And I’ve tried not to mention her brother’s attitude towards women to her for just that reason.”

“I was TEN, father” Arthur protested with a huff. “I didn’t LIKE girls then – they didn’t play swords, didn’t ride horses, screamed if they saw a mouse. Until puberty set in I wasn’t sure why we even needed girls around.”

“Once the hormones hit you made up for lost time with a vengeance” Vlad commented, trying not to laugh. 

Arthur sighed. “Says the man who’s bedded more elder goddesses than any being I know. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, father.”

“Okay, TMI” Baird said with a laugh. “Back to the trip to Bathory’s castle. When did you know you were probably in trouble?”

“When we entered her gates – and the smell hit me” Vlad replied, the humor wiped from his face. “Human senses would not have noticed it so quickly – but Fae have always been sensitive to smells and sounds. And that was a smell I knew all too well.”

“I knew it too” Arthur said quietly. “It was the smell of fear.”


	3. Talking the past

At Čachtice Castle 

Arthur looked up, wide-eyed at his father. “Is that…?”

“Hush boy, stay on your horse. We will not be here long” Vlad snarled, motioning to his manservant Ludo. The scarred old Romany soldier, one of the few humans to serve the eldest of the pure-blood Fae nobles, moved his horse closer to his master, eyes on the ground. “Ludo, do not under any circumstances allow yourself or the others to be parted from your horses. I expect we will be leaving very quickly. Also, keep my son close. Something here is not right and I will not risk him in the house of some mortal witch.”

Ludo nodded. “As you command, Master” he murmured, positioning his horse beside the boy’s. 

“I don’t need a babysitter” Arthur muttered mutinously.

“You need what I tell you that you need” Vlad snapped, the smell of fear straining his nerves. “Do not quarrel with me, Arthur. This is not the time for you to try my patience.” He kicked his horse slightly, trotting forward and leaving his son behind, surrounded protectively by his father’s housecarl.

On the steps of the castle, a woman with striking red hair waited for her guest to approach. Erzsébet (Elizabeth) Báthory watched the impossibly tall, grim figure of her cousin Matthias spy, dismount and approach her. He was handsome enough in a gaunt sort of way, with piercing eyes and good figure honed by years of warfare but she suspected he was not here to partake of the pleasures of her hospitality. “Prince Vlad” she purred, gracefully moving to meet him. “It is pleasure. When my man-servant told me you were at my gates…”

“My apologies, lady, for not sending notice to you of our impending arrival” Vlad replied, a grim smile on his lips. “Indeed, I had not thought to stop here and impose myself on you. King Matthias had asked we speak to someone in this area for him and as I and my son were on our way back home…”

“Oh, is that handsome lad behind you your son?” Báthory queried, looking past him to the cluster of horses gathered around the young boy. “So young and so tall! He will, I think, take after his father.”

“I hope not” Vlad said dryly. “My mirror tells me that would not be a fate I’d wish on a young man.”

Elizabeth looked up at the nobleman with a wicked smile. “You think so little of yourself, Prince Vlad.” She brushed her voluminous skirts aside as she turned to re-enter her castle. “Please, enter and take supper with me. You’ve traveled a long way from my cousin’s court and are tired.”

“We would not wish to impose” Vlad said, eyes narrowed as the scent he had caught wind of wafted over him again, this time coming from his erstwhile hostess.

“Nonsense” she purred, walking back to the great door. “I insist.”

In the Library

“So you didn’t get to go in with your dad?” Stone said, puzzled. “Then how did you see what the Countess was up to?” 

“I made a critical error” Vlad chuckled. “I assumed my ten year old son would actually stay where I told him to stay. Never underestimate the curiosity of a child – or their ability to get into mischief.”

“I wasn’t THAT bad” Arthur muttered, a flush rising on his cheeks.

“Oh, I dare say you were probably worse” Jenkins replied smugly.

Arthur left his chair and looked over the articles the clippings book had produced before its attempted launch into orbit. “Looks like most of the victims disappeared in Hungary but the newest one seems were reported missing around Ecsed in eastern Hungary...”

Stone grimaced. “Yeah, the birthplace of the Blood Countess. It’s said they had to move her body there after her death because the villagers who lived near Čachtice castle protested have the woman responsible for the deaths of their daughters buried in their cemetery.”

Cassandra moved to stand beside Arthur and read the articles. “It says here the latest missing women were on a tour of famous castles.”

Vlad narrowed his eyes. “There is nothing famous about Čachtice. Infamous – yes. But not famous.”

Arthur groaned as he read further. “They were on a ghost hunting tour. Dear Heaven – don’t humans have enough troubles in their living years? Why try to find trouble in the afterlife?”

“Men are afraid of death” Stone rumbled. “That and people like to be afraid. Makes them feel alive.”

“There’s a difference between a feeling of excitement on a dangerous looking roller-coaster and the feeling of absolute terror confronting the uneasy dead. Which is what I fear has happened to these women.” Vlad shut the book quickly. “You will need to move quickly if you are to keep any more from being murdered.”

Jenkins shot his friend a look. “You will not be accompanying them?”

Arthur shook his head. “Can’t. If I’m right – what inhabits the book now knows both father and I. It will go to ground before it allows itself to be taken by us. And besides…” his voice trailed off, Arthur’s eyes on his father.

“And besides” Vlad continued. “What that book has awakened in a mortal it can awaken in us – and a Dark Phoenix or a Dark Fae pure-blood are not creatures to be meddled with. Especially not by mortals – not even you, Librarian.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ve experienced its power before?” Jenkins replied, softly.

“Because we have.” Arthur admitted. “A long time ago…”


	4. The chase begins

The Librarians quickly began to make their plans, dividing up the team between those who would go to Čachtice and do some recon and those who would stay behind and do the research needed to determine what exactly they were facing. Warm clothes and working communication stones were passed around and maps of the area were studied. Arthur and Vlad, after a quiet conversation, parted company with the old warlord returning through the Library’s back door to his own home and Arthur staying behind, flipping idly through the Clippings Book.

“Jones, Flynn and I” Baird had called out, moving to stand beside her Librarian “will do the field work.”

Stone looked up with a frown. “That a good idea?” he grumbled. “I mean – I know about the history – maybe it would be better…”

“Jones is the master of getting in and out of places – and we may have to get out of somewhere fast. You, Cassandra, and Jenkins are better deployed here in the Library digging a little deeper into the events around the Blood Countess, her arrest and death. See if there is anything to tell us where the book has been hidden all this time – and who might have wanted to find it.” The Guardian looked quizzically up at the young Fae King. “Sure you don’t want to come along?”

Arthur smiled. “Not that I don’t want to come along – it’s just better if I don’t. And besides – you all have faced some pretty gnarly things before. Finding a book – even if it is one you will need to ultimately destroy – shouldn’t be that hard.” He looked over at Jenkins knowingly. “I’m a pretty good researcher and since I have some first-hand experience with the events you will be looking into, I’ll happily volunteer to help out here.”

Baird and Jenkins exchanged looks. “Well – if you’re sure…”

“I am” Arthur reassured her, flipping to another page in the Clippings Book.

“What if I insert us into the next tour of the castle?” Jones called out, pulling open his laptop. “We could just blend in with the tourists taking in the sights That way we wouldn’t have to hope no one knows who the “Librarians” are when we show up asking questions.” He quickly pulled up a website and with a few clicks had acquired tickets for the next tour, pushing the laptop over to Cassandra when he was done. “We can pick up our passes when we get there.”

“Yeah – that’s probably a good idea” Stone replied somberly. “Especially since that “We’re the Librarians” thing only seems to work for Flynn these days.”

“And we can’t be sure that the person who currently has the Book of Shadows doesn’t know who might be looking for it. Best to stay incognito – or at least as under the radar as we can.” Baird gave Flynn “the Look” that told her charges not to go off on wild tangents when they arrived. Not that she thought it would work on him – the Librarian was still working out issues concerning teamwork and methods of undercover work that didn’t include spouting off irrelevant bits of trivia. 

Jenkins re-set the back door and set it to open down the road from the castle ruin in Slovakia next to the village of Čachtice. “Borders have changed over the centuries” Flynn said, snatching up his satchel. “Use to be this was part of Hungary. Now – Slovakia. Who knows what it will be centuries from now?”

“An antechamber of Hell” Arthur muttered, reading through the assorted current death notices the Clippings Book had collected for the area.

Jenkins frowned at his quiet comment. “Arthur…”

“Ignore me” his friend called out, not looking up from his readings. “I’m just in a mood to be difficult.”

“Probably a good thing, then, that he’s not coming with” Baird replied with a sigh. “Shall we?” With that she and her companions step through the doorway and were gone.

Village of Čachtice

Jones stumbled through the door, nearly running into the back of Flynn and Baird who had come to a stop at the entrance to a dank alleyway. “Well, that was fun – not” the Aussie muttered, winkling his nose at the damp smell coming from behind him.

Baird and Flynn silently agreed with him, picking their way carefully out of the darkness onto the stone path leading up to the hotel where the tour group was supposed to be gathered. “So – how do we want to play this?” Baird asked briskly. “We start asking too many questions about the women who died from this group and we’re going to have targets on our backs before we know what’s really happening.”

“Play it cool” Flynn said calmly, peering into the shop windows as they passed. “Ask about the tour, where the group will be going next. Make it seem like this was a last minute decision on our part – a delayed honeymoon.”

“You’re on your honeymoon touring castles used by medieval serial killers, with a buddy along for kicks. Real romantic there, Flynn.” Jones tone, though light hearted, had a bit of a sting to it.

“Jones is right” Baird mused, her eyes sweeping the path ahead of them. “The “honeymoon” story won’t really wash.”

“Okay – then I’m a professor of medieval studies and Jones is my teaching assistant” Flynn said, noticing a quaint café just up ahead. A diverse group of individuals, many snapping photos of the “quaint” locals, were gathered around a set of tables near the street. “I do have a Ph.D. in medieval studies so…”

“Is there ANY subject you don’t have a degree in?” Jones laughed. 

Flynn motioned towards the café. “I think we might have found our tour group” he whispered. 

“What gave them away?” Baird replied sarcastically. “The multitude of digital cameras snapping away at anything that moves or the big sign in English that reads “Haunted Castle Tour”?” She motioned to the sign, with a rough looking man standing beside it. 

“That guy does NOT look happy to be here” Jones remarked. “Maybe he’s got dragged on this tour and wants out?”

“Probably a local tired of having strangers take photos of him because he’s so “quaint” looking” Baird said with a sigh. “Tourists!”

“Isn’t that technically what we’re saying we are?” Jones asked innocently.

“Let’s just make sure your little trick at the Library actually did get us tickets to the tour.” Flynn walked up to the group, a bright smile on his face. “Hello? Is this the group going up to Čachtice castle? I’m Professor Carson from Stanford – here to do some research on a treatise on the roll of medieval women in eastern Europe during the war with the Turks. My T.A. was supposed to get tickets for us for the tour but you know how students are.” His happy voice babbled on as Baird watched the crowd for reactions.

Most of the group looked mildly interested in the newcomers – at least for a moment. Then their eyes glazed over and other conversations started, drowning out Flynn's excited babble. The man standing beside the sign glared at the Librarian for a moment then turned away, walking quickly down the road. A heavy-set woman walked up from the back of the cafe, stopping in front of the trio with a determined look on her face.

“Prof. Carson?” she asked, holding out a meaty hand. “I’m Dorothy Szolgáló, your tour guide. We were quite surprised to find we would have three new adventurers with us during this walk.”

Flynn waved a hand dismissively. ”Last minute decision. Thought I would let my grad student take a look at what life in a seventeenth century castle was like. We were actually thinking about touring Ban Castle in Translvania but somehow our travel plans were changed at the last moment by the University. So, thought that while we were here we might take a look at Čachtice.”

“Of course, professor, we are glad to have you” Dorothy said with a smile – a smile that didn’t quite make it up to her eyes. She glanced over at Baird and Jones. “The young man must be your student, then? The lady…”

“Is my wife” Flynn replied, winding his arm around Baird’s waist. “She’s been kind enough to put off our vacation in order for me to do some research in eastern Europe on the lives of noble women of the seventeenth century. It’s really quite an interesting topic…”

Dorothy’s eyes glazed for a moment. “I’m sure it is, professor. But we really must be going. It is not good to be on road when the sun sets.”

“Bandits?” Flynn replied, sympathetically. 

“Bad roads” Dorothy corrected. She turned and gathered up the rest of the tourist group and started loading them into a van which had almost magically appeared in the street beside the café.

Baird watched as the others climbed aboard, making note of several college age girls carrying backpacks that appeared to be traveling alone. “Flynn” she hissed, nodding to the young women. “They look like they’re about the same age as the other victims…Right?”

Flynn frowned, grabbing Jones by the arm. “Yes – and that’s not good. Jones, when we reach the castle I need you to find out what you can about those girls.”

“Would their passports help?” the cheeky thief asked with an innocent grin. He held out two little books between his fingers. “The blond is American named Cindy Smith, the one with the blue hair is a Brit by the name of Candice Dowel. From the stamps on their passports they’ve been traveling all over Eastern Europe – and their last stop before this just happened to be Romania.”

“Home of Dracula?” Baird said sarcastically, snatching the books from the Aussie.

“Also home for some of the Báthory family” Flynn replied. “I wonder if they have more of an agenda than they appear.”

“I hope not.” Baird looked on as the last of the tour group mounted the van. “Looks like we’re the last ones in. Time to go visiting.”


	5. Researching and bus rides - two ways to start the hunt

Back in the Library

Stone, Cassandra and Jenkins immediately started pulling any information the library had on the Blood Countess, from scholarly tomes to copies of references made about her in literature of the time. "This is so strange" Cassandra said, carefully flipping a page on a particularly brittle document. "There is so much about her that is good, almost heroic. How could she have been the monster that history says she was?"

"Cassie, she murdered hundreds of young women" Stone protested, laying another book on the table. "Kind of hard to see her as anything BUT a monster."

Cassandra shook her head. "But look at her history" she said, pointing to notes she had been taking. "She's said to have suffered multiple seizures that may have been caused by epilepsy most of her life. Imagine how horrifying that most have been for a young girl, to suffer bouts where she looses control over herself and to have some of the most bizarre and brutal remedies tried on you - only to have nothing work."

"You're sympathizing with her because of what your tumor did to you" Stone replied gently. "But it's not the same thing. You didn't turn into a blood-thirsty monster."

"But maybe that's all she knew to do" Cassandra protested. "There are scholars who think what she did was because that's the behavior she saw in her everyday life, that her family taught her such cruelty." Cassandra waved a hand over the pile of documents and books they had been reviewing. "She was married when she was either 13 or 15 - way too young as we think of things today. When her husband was away at war she managed business affairs and the estates, including defending her husband's estates from attack. She was educated, could speak multiple languages, and there are even stories of where she intervened on behalf of destitute women. How can this be the same person as the one described as the Blood Countess?"

Stone sighed. "Three hundred witnesses, Cassie, including survivors of her attacks, spoke out against her. The only thing that kept her from being brought to trial and executed was her noble status. If her family hadn't been aristocrats she would have gone to prison or been killed by the state. Whatever good she did during that time has to be weighed against the horrors she inflicted."

Arthur looked up in interest, watching the two young librarians debate their subject. "You are seeing things only in one dimension, Miss Cassandra" he called out, closing the book he had been reading. "People are more complicated than you give them credit for. I dare say Galais could tell you stories of my Jeckle/Hyde personality traits when we were striving to unit the British isles."

Cassandra frowned. "But that was war! Everyone expects things to happen during a war!"

"No, Cassandra" Jenkins replied quietly. "Arthur is correct. People have many facets to them - some very dark and uncontrolled and some very bright. What was that story you use to tell me about the wolves?"

"Oh, that" Arthur replied with a grin. "It's probably been told in any manner of different ways to every generation since Adam and Eve. Father told me once that there were two wolves inside of each of us - one that represented the darkest, most base side of human nature and the other that represented the best that man brought to the world. Both wolves were in constantly at war inside every man. I asked which one would eventually win out and..."

"And he said the one that you fed" Stone said with a knowing smile. "Yeah - I heard that one too. I get the feeling that Countess Bathory fed the dark wolf in her soul instead of the light one."

"Probably" Arthur agreed. "Remember, Cassandra, life in those ages was not easy for a woman. Her husband was dead which made her vulnerable to those who wanted to profit from her lands. Her children were grown and dealing with lives of their own - and she wasn't as young and beautiful as she once had been. Making a good second marriage, or at least one she could be comfortable in, would not be as easy as when she was betrothed at thirteen. Perhaps she was just at that point in her life where a little whisper in her ear could turn her away from the light and start her persuing darker paths. Whatever the trigger, however exagerated the stories of her crimes might have been - Countess Báthory was responsible for murders commited by her hand and at her command. And somewhere a book exists that holds a secret from that moment in time, a secret that would be better off burned to ash."

Jenkins rose and stood behind his friend, one hand on his shoulder. "You didn't tell us the rest of the story of your visit to her castle."

Arthur smiled, shrugging off his touch. "Not tonight, Galais. Tonight - we need to dig deeper into the trial and its aftermath. We need to find something your associates can use to find that book before its influence causes anyone else's death."

In Slovakia

Baird grimaced as the bus hit yet another pothole. "Dorothy was right - these are really bad roads. You would think they would do something about them if they are going to use that castle as a tourist trap." She and Flynn had been lucky to get the last two adjoining seats in the van, relegating Jones to a seat wedged between two very large German ladies. All Baird could hope for was that the young Aussie didn't decide to practice his pickpocketing skills on the poor women just to keep himself amused.

Flynn looked up from notes he was making in his journal. "We should be almost there" he replied, looking around. "Have I missed anything?"

"No" Baird admitted, looking up the length of the van to the tour guide they had met at the cafe. "Which is kind of strange. Usually in these types of venues the guide is reciting a long list of historical and totally forgettable facts to keep their clients from dwelling on how uncomfortable they are."

"It's a new set-up" a voice from behind her replied. Turning, Baird and Flynn found themselves looking into the bright eyes of the two young women they had spotted before - Cindy Smith and Candice Dowel. "I don't think they have their schtick down yet."

Baird smiled politely. "I guess you two have been on these types of tours before?"

Cindy, obviously the talkative one of the pair, shrugged. "We've been all over Europe doing tours of famous castles and tracking ghost sightings. We post them to our group on the web with our findings so people will know what's worth spending their money to look into."

Baird looked quizzically at the girl for a moment. "You post to an internet group? I don't suppose you know of a young woman named Lucy Lyons, do you?"

Candice looked up from her book in shock. "Yes! She's one of the main contributers to the site! How do you know her?"

"I met her when she was at a university that had some issues" Baird replied carefully. "Are you in contact with her now?"

"Sort of" Cindy admitted sheepishly. "We only told the group we were on holiday and would be doing some ghost hunting tours. I think that everyone figured it would be those low-rent, staged sort of events. But this hasn't been!"

"No - I imagine it hasn't" Flynn remarked grimly. "Were the young women who disappeared from Ecsed also part of this group?"

"You heard about them?" Candice replied, looking carefully around them before leaning towards the Librarian. "They had been on the tour of Dracula's castle with us. Students on holiday, just like us. But they weren't trying to search out the truth of what happened either there or here. Mostly they were pretty much just out for a good time. Then suddenly they were gone. No one knows what's happened to them. They didn't just leave - at least not of their own accord. Cindy and I saw Dorothy hiding their luggage away when people started to ask about them."

The Guardian and the Librarian exchanged worried looks. "This is getting more and more complicated" Baird whispered. "Maybe we should send a message back and see if Jenkins can talk Arthur into coming along for the ride."

Flynn frowned. "I think Arthur may have a good reason why he's not wanting to take on this hunt - and frankly I think he's right in assuming we can handle it without his help. But when we get a chance we should check back and see if anyone has found any more information about the Blood Countess and her castle."

 

"We read on the web that this is where she was captured by György Thurzó,Palatine of Hungary, in the midst of one of her bloody crimes. She was walled up in her bedroom in that castle and never set foot out of it again until she died in 1614. They say she aged almost immedietly since she couldn't bathe in blood anymore." 

Cindy's voice had a breathless, thrilled quality that annoyed Baird. "I'm sure that's all just made-up for the tourists" the Guardian replied curtly. "Let's see what our tour guide has to say about the proceedings when we get to the castle."

"If she says anything at all." Candice gave her traveling companion an annoyed look. "We expected to hear all sorts of lurid stories about how horrible Dracula was when we toured his castle - but all the locals could talk about was how he kept the region safe from the Turks. They actually thought he was a just ruler - even if he did stake people out behind his home."

The van lurched to a halt, nearly throwing its passengers to the floor. "Looks like we're here" Jones voice called out as he slid between his two beefy seat mates and made his way back to Flynn and Baird. "Looks like there's storm brewing too." He pointed out of the windows to the gathering dark clouds that had followed them up the mountain train.

"Maybe we'll have to spend the night!" Cindy squeaked, excitedly.

Baird sighed. "Of course we will. Isn't that how every good horror movie starts?"


	6. Debate - and weathering the storm

In the Library

Stone and Cassandra continued to research the trial of Countess Báthory, debating what was or wasn't true about the various accounts. "No one really knows what happened" Cassandra protested. "It could have been any one of her servants who killed those women! Or it all could have been a political hit on a woman considered too powerful for her time."

Stone sighed. "Cassandra, she was related to major royal houses of the time. If they wanted her out of the way her family could have just as easily arranged another marriage for her after her husband's death. But they didn't. And while a lot of the testimony listed in some of these books seems a bit over the top..."

"The only thing that will be over the top" Arthur's voice called out from the other side of the table "will be my blood pressure if you two don't stop arguing insignificant things and start looking for where that book went!"

"But don't you think...?" Cassandra began.

"No - I don't" Arthur replied coldly. "I was there, Miss Cassandra. I saw what was in her torture room. So I frankly don't care what happened to that red-haired witch. What I do care about is finding that book and understanding what its relationship is to the disappearance of those women. And that is all you should care about too."

He's right" Jenkins chimed in, laying another set of books, notes from previous Librarians, down on the table between the librarians and their guest. "Right now, helping Mr. Carson and the others find out what is happening in Slovakia is more important that finding the truth about a trial hundreds of years closed. Now - has anyone discovered anything to tell us who might have made off with the book?"

"Her diaries went missing around the time of the trial but 32 letters written by Báthory are stored in the Hungarian state archives in Budapest. The Book of Shadows probably disappeared when her diaries did." Stone laid aside another tome and picked up a leather bound journal. "Hey - this is a diary from one of the notaries that was tasked with collecting witness statements against her. He mentions a conversation he had with her son, Pál (Paul) Nádasdy, about his mother's situation. The family's influence, along with that of György Thurzó - who Elizabeth's husband had entrusted his heirs and widow to, kept her from standing a public trial. If it hadn't been for him, she would have been executed for her crimes."

"Wasn't that the man who lead the investigation?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes - he was Palatine of Hungary at the time" Arthur mused. "Father knew him. I suspect it was more a political move on his part that she was given solitary confinement in her castle. He feared putting a member of a noble house on trial - even for crimes as massive as these - would cause a backlash against other nobles. And if she was spared then her family would agree to King Matthias not having to repay all the money he owed her. None of this gets you any closer to finding the book, though."

"Maybe it does" Stone replied, flipping through the old diary. "He mentions hearing stories of a son born to Elizabeth out of wedlock and given away to be raised by a woman trusted by the family. Kid was supposedly sent of to Wallachia - or what we know now as Romania - never to be heard from again. Maybe the family sent her book off to be hidden with that "son" that they wouldn't acknowledge?"

"Didn't that ghost tour those last few women disappeared from start off in Romania?" Cassandra looked over her notes from the stories in the Clipping Book, ticking off one story in particular. "Yes - here it is. There is a story about a tourist that disappeared from a tour of Dracula's castle and another that disappeared from a different tour group in Bucharest."

"Both young women, pretty with few relations to raise the alarm when they disappeared?" Jenkins asked with concern.

"Yes" Cassandra verified, moving to stand beside Arthur at the Clippings Book. "It looks like both women had been missing for weeks before anyone thought to report their disappearance to the local authorities or to their embassies."

"And yet - no sign of a body, no sign of a crime scene" Arthur mused pensively. "Strange - especially if you take it on face value that what the Countess wanted from those girls she did kill was their blood to keep her beauty alive."

"The Countess has been dead for over four hundred years" Stone said with a frown. "Her motives really aren't important here - are they?"

"Perhaps they are" Jenkins replied, a look of distaste on his face. "If someone wanted to replay the events of that era..."

"There would be an area of confinement" Arthur said quietly. "Someplace where the torture and eventual death of these women could be done in privacy. But again, no bodies. So what is being done here?"

"Can't Rowan talk to the dead?" Cassandra asked suddenly. "Maybe she could..."

"Rowan has other issues to deal with right now" Arthur replied somberly. "And considering what I experienced - I'd rather not offload that horror on her." He frowned, looking down at the various articles that had appeared in the Clippings Book. "I wonder though... These tours are looking for ghosts, are they not?"

"Supposedly" Jenkins replied, dismissively.

"I wonder if they have seen any. And if they have not - why?"

In Čachtice castle

Flynn, Baird and Jones hurried to keep up with the tourist group, which quickly found itself huddled inside the great hall of the dilapidated castle. The rain, which had followed them from the village, had picked the moment the group had disembarked from their van to fall, sending sheets of rain hurtling down on the unprepared group. They had made a run for the castle interior, their path lighted by the impressive displays of lightning that had accompanied the storm. "Well, this isn't promising" Flynn replied, slightly disappointed.

"Depends on what you thought we'd find when we got here" Baird said, shaking the water from her jacket. She watched as Jones lurked on the outskirts of the group, his eyes on the two girls they had been talking to. "I told Jones to keep an eye on them. Hope they don't get the wrong idea."

Flynn shrugged. "He can talk himself in and out of trouble like no one I've ever seen. He'll be fine. We need to get in touch with Jenkins and the others and see if they have found anything useful."

Baird nodded, her eyes fixed on their tour guide and the van driver - a hulking man who had been introduced at the start of the drive as János. "I'll try to use the stones to contact them. Keep an eye on our hosts and those two girls. Don't want to get caught talking about what we suspect until we have some proof that something actually has happened."

Flynn nodded and casually moved to stand where he could both shield Baird from view and keep an eye on the tour group. Behind him, Baird fished her communication stone out of her pocket and tapped it. "Jenkins? Can you here me?"

"We hear you, Col. Baird" Jenkins voice flowed from the stone. "Where are you?"

"Čachtice castle along with a group of foreign tourists - two of which have a connection with Lucy Lyons. A storm has pretty much got us trapped up here so we maybe spending the night."

"Is that wise?" Jenkins voice took on a uneasy tone. "Considering what we think maybe occurring?"

"We don't know anything IS occurring other than some young women have disappeared from various ghost and castle tours in Eastern Europe." Baird replied with a sigh. "Any new information for us to work on from your end?"

"Not really" Stone's voice sounded tired and frustrated. "Still working our way through documents that the Library has on the events of the capture of the Countess and her non-trial. Looks like no one even bothered with all these girls disappearing until she started in on the daughters of minor nobility. Then it because an issue."

Baird sighed. "Yeah - same for current day. No one other than the two girls who know Lucy has even mentioned the ones that disappeared from this group - not even our guide, Dorothy."

"Dorothy?" Arthur's deep voice suddenly flowed from the stone. "Your tour guide's name is Dorothy? Is there anyone in the group whose names would be Ilona, Katarína or János?"

"Yes" Baird replied, her eyes going instinctively to the large man standing with their guide. "Our van driver is named János. Why?"

"It may all be a coincidence but two of the Countess's accomplices were Dorotya Semtész and János Újváry. Both servants met gruesome fates when they were convicted of helping the Countess with her monstrous deeds." Arthur's voice took on a worried tone. "Be watchful, Eve Baird. It maybe nothing but..."

"Yeah - but I don't believe in coincidences either" she replied, closing off the link with a click.


	7. Horrors remembered

In the Library

Jenkins disappeared after Baird’s check-in, re-appearing barely a half-hour later with a laden tea tray and snacks. “This is going to be a long session” he murmured, pressing cups into both Stone’s and Cassandra’s hands. “Best you stay well hydrated and nourished.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose at the offerings. “Right – you know I hate tea, right?”

“I know” Jenkins replied with a sigh “that you are difficult at best to take care of and impossible at worst. But like it or not – you need to eat something.”

Arthur shrugged. “Not hungry.”

Jenkins laid the younger man’s cup in front of him and pulled up a chair. “Tell me what happened that day.”

“What day?” Arthur said, not looking up from his book.

Jenkins reached across and closed his friend’s tome. “The day you saw for yourself what was happening in Čachtice castle.”

Arthur looked over at his friend with a frown. “Not something I like to remember.”

“Yeah but maybe something in your memory can give us a clue where to go with this next” Stone called out, pulling his chair around as well.

“You said you saw what she was doing – but maybe thinking about what you saw now as a grown man, you can analyze it better” Cassandra suggested, taking a sip of her tea with pleasure.

“Nothing to analyze” Arthur growled. “But if you insist…”

Čachtice castle – 1609

Arthur knew better than to sulk. It was the ONE thing designed to set his father off and put him a black mood. But watching his parent’s tall frame follow the Countess into her castle, leaving him behind was just so unfair. “I’ve been in royal courts” he muttered to himself, pulling on his horse’s saddle straps. “I know how to behave in such places. Never got into any trouble, no matter how prissy and useless I thought the party was. It’s not fair! Something is going on here and father will need me at his side.”

Ludo watched his young master’s movements closely, knowing his warlord would mount his head on a pike if he let the boy out of his sight for even a moment. “Let one of the men deal with your horse, Master Artur” he called out, using the Wallachian pronunciation of the boy’s name. “You and I can stand watch until your father returns.”

“My father has told me I must know how to take care of what belongs to me. He would not have me be some pampered little princeling who cannot stand without others propping him up.” The boy carefully slid his saddle off his steed’s back and, taking the reigns, led the nervous animal to where the others were being watered and fed, making sure to keep well out of the way of the other anxious steeds. His father’s stallion, Diavol, was in an especially foul mood, lashing out at any of the geldings who dared get too close. The old Warlord's housecarl milled around nervously, glancing up at the imposing castle their master had just disappeared into, murmuring to each other in their native tongues. Arthur whispered softly to the horses, trying not to share his own misgivings with the sensitive creatures. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the Countess’s serving men walking towards the castle, entering through a side door visible from the paddock. Arthur frowned, wondering why that particular servant seemed so wrong to him. The sight of the lone servant gave him an idea.

“Young master – come. Break bread with us” Ludo called out, trying to keep sight of the boy through the mass of horses. “Your father will be angry if he finds you’ve not had your dinner.”

“Not now” Arthur called out, petting his father’s horse as he thought. “Perhaps later. Tell the men to partake of what we’ve brought with us then get the horses re-saddled. I have a feeling father won’t be here long.” He walked the picket line, gently whispering to the horses as he moved.

Ludo watched, concerned, as his master’s son appeared and disappeared between the nervous steeds. “Young master?” he called out, putting an edge of irritation in his voice. “Your father has commanded…”

Arthur turned just out of reach. “I’ll tell father I was too fast for you to catch. He’ll believe that and only be angry at me.” With that, he darted away before the hulking manservant could reach him.

In the Library

“Your father told you to stay put and…” Stone gaped at Arthur in astonishment.

“And it went in one ear and accelerated out the other” Jenkins grumbled. “Some things, it seems, never changed with you.”

“Says the man who followed me down more rabbit holes than any other person in my army” Arthur quipped. Jenkins rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“I’ll bet your father wasn’t happy” Cassandra giggled.

Arthur shrugged, a sheepish smile on his face. “Father should have known better than to expect me to stay put. Sadly, that was the one day I probably should have listened.” His eyes focused on the wall above Cassandra’s head for a moment, calling up memories he had ruthlessly buried for over four hundred years. “I followed the servant, going through the door in to the kitchen and picking up his trail as he went down into the depths of the castle. I marked the walls with dragon fire symbols that would only appear if I summed them so that I wouldn’t get lost. Turns out, it was the only good idea I had that night. Father told me later that they led him straight to me. He also told me I was moments from getting my ass blistered when he caught up with me.”

 

Čachtice castle – 1609

Vlad stood coldly in his hostess presence, wearying of the courtly manners and flirtations of both the mistress of the castle and her obviously debauched servants. The Countess especially seemed in the mood to impress her dour guest, not seeing that her attempts at seduction were falling flat with the elder warlord who found her attempts embarrassing. “I bring greetings from King Matthias” he rumbled, standing with his back to the door. “He hopes to see you at court soon.”

“Yes – perhaps” Countess Báthory replied, motioning her servants to fetch drink and food for her guest. The old soldier was quite handsome in his austere way and she had hoped her beauty would make a better impression that it appeared to be doing. “I’ve not seen you in the King’s court since the death of my husband nearly six years past. Why are you traveling in our lands now, so soon after the Christmas season?”

Vlad shrugged. “I needed to speak to some of my retainers and this seemed a good time to do it.” He casually glanced out of the window beside him and nearly swallowed his tongue as he watched his son – who SHOULD have been with the horses – following one of the Countess’s man-servants into the castle. 

Countess Báthory blinked as her “guest” turned on his heel and made for the door. “My Lord? Is there a problem?”

“Nothing tanning a certain young squire’s back-side won’t fix” he muttered, ignoring his hostess as he charged outside. Ludo, frantically running for the keep’s kitchen door slid to a halt at the sight of his master’s face.

“I’m sorry, sire” the burly housekarl muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground. “The young master…”

“Was too fast for you” Vlad replied coldly. “I should have known better than let that brat out of my sight. Make sure the horses are re-saddled – as soon as I find the boy we are leaving.” He pivoted quickly, heading in the direction he had last seen his son while his manservant stumbled off to gather the others.

The warlord slammed into the kitchen door, scattering the servants like nervous chickens as they ran to get out of his way. He marched past the serving wenches, catching sight of a glimmering almost at the height of his eyes on the walls leading down to a lower level of the keep. “Well at least he thought to leave a trail” Vlad thought to himself, following the almost invisible dragon fire sigil’s further and further down. “I know I encourage independence but when I get my hands on that boy…” 

Moments later he had stopped, perplexed, facing a wall covering with a fire sign beside it. A flick of the wrist revealed a door behind the tapestry, one that had been left unlocked by whoever had last entered it. “If that idiot thief Maxim has been teaching Artur how to pick locks I’m going to flay him alive” he muttered, gently opening the door and stepping into a darkened corridor.

Back in the Library

“So your father was able to track you down. Better than I was ever able to do” Jenkins said quietly. “Continue your story. What happened when you followed the servant into that hall?”

“Not much at first” Arthur admitted, eyes fixed firmly on the wall behind Cassandra. “Then I saw him go into this one doorway. I waited for a few minutes then slowly opened the door and stepped in.” 

“And…” Stone said, staring into Arthur’s emotionless face.

Arthur’s eyes dropped to look at Stone. “You’re specialty is art and architecture – correct? Then I’m going to assume you’ve seen the works of Hieronymus Bosch. Specifically his representation of Hell? It was as though I’d walked into one of those paintings except this one included not only sight but smell and sound as well. The stench of blood and other bodily fluids with an underlying smell of decay. The sound of the few still alive, whimpering in pain from the torture they had or were in the process of receiving. The sight of women – some not much older than I was – chained in a corner, cowering in fear or laying too still, too pale beside a tub filled with a dark red substance I'd only seen at war. I’d been in battlefields before as my father’s student – but this was something I’d never seen before and hope to never see again.”

Jenkins rose and gripped his friend’s shoulders, a look of pain on his face. “It must have been horrifying for such a young boy.”

Arthur shrugged out of his friend’s touch. “Not as horrifying as what happened next. I stepped back – right into my father’s arms. And before I could protest, he had me by the arm and was dragging me back out into the sun.”

“Had he seen what was in that room?” Stone asked, his voice outraged.

“Yes – and that was why he was forcing me back to our horses. I didn’t understand it then but later, when I’d had to make similar decisions during our War of Reconciliation, I saw the wisdom of his choices. We were outnumbered, surrounded by servants loyal to the Countess. He would not, could not, risk his only child in a confrontation with a darkness capable of what we both had seen. Father pulled me out to the courtyard, threw me back on my horse and the whole party tore ass out of that castle headed for home before they could stop us.”

“And you’ve felt guilt about leaving those women ever since” Jenkins replied quietly. “That explains what you did as Arthur of Britain. I never understood your deep-seated hatred of those who delighted in torture and pain. Now I do.”

Arthur shrugged. “Never could abide a bully” he said calmly. “That just made it worse.”

“Were you able to report what you and your father had seen to someone?” Cassandra asked.

“It was a different time, Miss Cassandra” Arthur explained patiently. “The Countess was the law in her own lands. But not for long. As it happens we did barrel right into György Thurzó, the Palatine of Hungary, and his entourage as they were on their way up to the castle to confront Countess Báthory about the reports the King had received. I remember watching my father grab him by the throat and all but drag him off his horse as he “explained” what we had seen. The company was soon tearing off down the road behind us and within a week we had left it all behind and were home.” he shrugged, uncomfortable withe the memories. "Father says I didn't let him out of my sight for a month after that. I suspect it was more he watching me than me watching him... but I do remember crawling into his bed on a few nights, embarrassed to admit my night terrors wouldn't let me sleep alone." He smiled fondly. "I suspect he wasn't sleeping any better than I was so it was easy for him to find an excuse not to send me back to my bed. After a while, we left it all behind and went on with things as they were."

“Left the land – but not the memories” Stone guessed.

“True” Arthur admitted. “Her family ensured she did not suffer the same fate as the women she had murdered but history has also taken a swing at the family name. What was once a noble lineage is now remembered only for the blood soaked image of a woman so vain she murdered to retain her looks.”

“About that” Stone said, hoping to move the conversation off its emotional peak. “Was the Book of Shadows in that room when you looked in? I’m assuming it was if she was using a spell from it to …”

“I honestly don’t remember” Arthur admitted. “But I think there might be a way to find out. You remember when Rowan sent you magically created photos of myself and Galais when he was a younger soldier?”

“How can I forget?” Jenkins growled. “Mr. Jones made copies and pinned them to every wall in the Library – along with a running commentary about “how I had changed” since back in the day.”

Arthur smiled slightly. “Well – that spell is my sister’s creation but I have a similar one that might give us something close to a crime scene photo of the room. Maybe by looking at that we can see who else might have been in the room and might have taken the book away after the Countess was taken into custody.”

“We’d better hurry” Cassandra said, breathlessly. “Who knows what’s going on with Flynn and Baird. They’re going to need all the information they can get to find out what’s really happening out there.”

“Then let us begin.”


	8. The Book

In Čachtice castle – present day

Baird watched the assorted tourist types huddle together, whispering eagerly at the sight of this old stone castle, with its crumbling walls and overgrown paths. It was obvious no one had been prepared for a group of nosy adventure seekers to have to spend the night in the facility. The electricity – probably installed during the Communist era – was shaky at best, flickering every time lightning lit up the sky. The tour guide and her driver were desperately trying to start a fire in the huge stone fireplace in what must have been the castle’s great room while simultaneously keeping an eye on their guests. Some of the tourists had already tried to wander off by themselves, only to be called back by the guide. “Please do not leave the group” Dorothy called out, herding her recalcitrant clients back to the safety of the main room. “Restoration of the castle is on-going and there are many places where it would not be safe to walk in this dim light. Tomorrow, in the morning, we can explore thoroughly.”

“I don’t suppose you have supplies for us in the van” Flynn called out with a wan smile. “Since it seems we’ll be spending the night here and all. These old structures can get quite chilly.”

Dorothy shrugged. "Sadly, no. We have some blankets and there are cushions here on the furniture that was brought in for the renovation. Once we have the fire lit, it will not be so damp. As for food - we do have a bag lunch for everyone. Hopefully by morning we will be able to go back to the village for a more substantial meal." She bowed quickly to Flynn and scurried off after her driver who had slipped out the door to unpack the van.

“I’m betting there is no pizza delivery” Jones muttered to the two young women he had been shadowing. 

 

Cindy giggled, moving closer to the young Aussie. “Probably not – pity we didn’t think to bring some snacks.”

Candice sniffed in annoyance, her British accent wavering from high class to Cockney as she grew annoyed. “This tour was poorly setup from the first. Our group on the web said they were new to this but really – getting your group stranded out here without food or bedding? Not acceptable at all.” 

“You’re such a snob, Candy” Cindy snickered. “You’d think you were from some posh family that is used to nothing but good things instead of …”

“Let’s not start that conversation, shall we?” the young Brit hissed. “After all, I’m not the only one trying to pass themselves off as something they are not.” She shot a quick look at Jones, frowning. “Anyway, we’re here so we might as well make the best of it.”

Jones looked across the room at Baird and Carson and smiled. “Look, I’ve got to check in with my prof. Pick us out a nice quiet corner and I’ll be right back.” He slipped between Cindy and Candice and padded over to the Librarian and Guardian. “Those two are fun – not.”

“What happened?” Baird asked, watching as the girls drifted around the corners of the room, looking for a place to set down.

“I think they are on to us not being what Flynn said we are” Jones replied, watching the van driver closely. “Really need to keep our eyes on that guy” he said, nodding over to where the burly man was now standing, having returned from the van with the sack lunches. “I’m betting he could get us all back to the village in a heartbeat if he really wanted to. The way he was driving – like he knew where every pothole in the road was – I’m thinking it’s not the first time he’s been up here. Which would be interesting since this is supposed to be a fairly new venture.”

“Venture maybe new but the guide and her driver maybe locals” Baird pointed out calmly. "What I'm more concerned about is the fact that according to the gossipy whispers I was hearing while coming up here, the local law has still not found the two women from the group who disappeared. No sign of bodies, no sign of anything."

"Weird" Jones said. "Maybe they really did just change their minds and leave."

"Maybe" Flynn admitted slowly. "But that doesn't explain the other women who have disappeared on these tours. Or if this tour is in any way related to the ones where other women have disappeared."

"I don't believe in coincidences" Baird replied, carefully watching the assembled group. "Jones, you have your electronic version of the Clippings book, right? See if there is any correlation between where those women disappeared and the Blood Countess."

Jones pulled his phone out and flipped through the pages of his electronic link to the Library's Book. "Okay - there were three women missing before these recent two. One disappeared in Romania, near Dracula's castle."

"Possible link to the Countess as she had family in that area - her uncle and her grandfather were both voivode's of Transylvania - which is now central Romania." Flynn added, looking quizzically over Jones's shoulder.

"Yeah, right" the Aussie replied, annoyed. "Two women disappeared while touring Nádasdy Castle in Sárvár..."

"I think that was where she spent her early years just after her marriage" Flynn murmured. "Need to verify that with Stone but again - a connection to the Countess all the same."

"And the last two disappeared here" Baird added, motioning to the crumbling stone walls. "where the Countess was arrested for her crimes. I don't believe in coincidences."

"Nor do I" Flynn agreed. "We need to get back to the Library quickly and find out what Stone and the others might have on this castle. I suspect whatever is happening will come to its conclusion here."

"Yeah - but what IS happening?" Jones asked. "Did someone find the book and wants to use the blood of these women for a spell? Or is someone looking for the book and thinks they can offer the missing girls as a gift to some dark spirit to get to it?"

"And what is it specifically about that book that is so powerful?" Baird mused. "Is it the book itself or what is written in it? Too many questions - not enough answers."

"Then let's find a door and see if we can't get back to the Library and find those answers" Flynn replied, hefting his bag over his shoulder. "Before someone else disappears - or dies."

Back in the Library

Stone laid the laptop on the table while Cassandra pulled up the screen. It was the same laptop that Arthur had ensorcelled when he and his sister had discovered their histories had been re-written by the Almighty, a tool he had used to allow the Librarians and himself to view Rowan's dreams. Now, it would allow them to view his. "Okay, everyone understand what needs to happen?"

Stone shrugged. "We saw you use this with Ro - you fall asleep and it projects whatever you dream onto the screen for us to see."

Arthur shook his head. "No - that's how it worked with my sister. It won't work the same with me. I cast the original spell so my mind will automatically block any attempt by this artifact to access my subconscious. What I can make it do is view snippets of time from my memory, a moment suspended in amber for you to examine as I meditate. The image won't last long so take careful notes."

"Can we change the original spell to allow us to take snapshots of that moment, like your sister does?" Cassandra asked, lining the laptop up with the screen.

Arthur cocked his head quizzically, staring first at the pretty red-head and then at the computer. "Hmmm... it's possible I can insert a new sub-routine into the spell telling it to capture and save random images from the memory. That's pretty close to what Ro does with her spell."

"Sub-routine?" Jenkins said, eyebrow raised.

Arthur grinned. "Been spending WAY too much time with my baby brother. Khan may dress like a surfer dude, live and train in a monastery but he's still the most tech savvy creature I've ever met. He's been going on and on about a program a friend just wrote... way above my head. I pretend to understand then get Ro to explain it to me later."

Jenkins sighed. "At least you're still smart enough to know what you don't know."

"Hey!" Arthur laughed. "That hurt!" He sat down beside the table and laid his hand on the case, mentally re-arranging the spell he had first cast on the computer. "Okay - everyone ready? Here we go." He closed his eyes and relaxed in the chair, sending his mind back to that moment in time, a moment he had ruthlessly buried in the depths of his subconscious for over four hundred years. In front of him, the Librarians watched as a hazy image started to form on the screen.

"First image - the hallway he went down following Countess Báthory's servant" Stone commented, eyeing the walls carefully. "Pretty standard looking for castles of that day."  
The image changed as an open door appeared, with a dark tapestry swept up behind it. "Second image - the door he entered" Cassandra said, entranced by the events being portrayed. 

The image changed again - to a scene out of everyones worst nightmares. Blood, instruments of torture and ravaged victims sprawled across a stone floor. And there in the center..."Mr. Stone, see there!" Jenkins whispered, laying his hands on his old friend's shoulders. "The book on that stand..."

Arthur's eyes flew open and the images on the screen disappeared in a swirl of sparks. "Enough!" he gasped, pulling away from his friend's touch. "Enough. Let us see if the change I made to the spell worked." He pulled the computer closer and pecked at it, pulling up an imaging program. "There - it did save something from that memory."

"Just pull up the last image" Stone said. "It will show the book."

Arthur nodded and retrieved the image file. The image of Hell they had just seen was made visible again in all its Technicolor glory. "Damn!" he muttered. "Worse than I remembered."

"Let me try something" Cassandra said, swallowing the bile trying to rise up in her throat. She grimaced as she turned the laptop towards her and using the program's editing capabilities, was able to cut and enlarge just the center part of the image, showing only the book on its stand. "Okay - that's better. Is this the book we should be looking for?"

Arthur peered at it for a moment than leaned back with a sigh. "Yes - and I'm afraid there is a complication we had not foreseen. If your Librarian finds it - he must destroy it but..."

"But what?" Jenkins asked with a frown. 

"Simply lighting the book on fire is not an option" Arthur said quietly. "I know now what that witch was doing with her Book of Shadows - and it wasn't just keeping track of the black arts she was using to keep herself young. That book isn't just a list of spells - it's a prison."

"A prison?" Stone asked, stunned.

"If I'm right about the characters visible in this image - that book and its demon inspired spell was used to imprison the souls of Countess Báthory's victims in its pages."

"But why?" Cassandra gasped.

"Because the human soul is your source of grace and power - a source the normal mortal won't ever really understand or tap into. But Báthory has tapped it. She's using those poor creature's souls as a source of energy and power to keep herself youthful and beautiful. She's chained those pure, innocent sources of light to a book so dark and ugly... I can't even begin to explain how horrible this is." Arthur ran his hand through his longish, dark blond hair, fingers trembling as he did so. "Essentially, the book is a prison for lost souls and you must find it and stage a breakout before someone else figures out what can be done with the power still residing in those pages."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The laptop artifact made its entrance in the story The Librarians and the Archangel’s dilemma - in case anyone is interested.


	9. War council

In the Library

The communication stones interface buzzed, giving the Librarians a heads-up that their away team was needing a door opened back to their home base. Jenkins quickly made the corrections to the setting and the Back Door swung open, allowing Baird, Flynn and Jones to tumble back into the Library. “Well – anything new to report?” Baird asked.

“Maybe” Stone replied, holding out the “special” prints they had made from Arthur’s memories of the Countesses torture chamber. “Arthur thinks this maybe more than a Book of Shadows.”

“He thinks it’s a prison for the souls of the women that Countess Báthory killed” Cassandra added, still looking slightly ill. 

“How did you…” Flynn started to ask, then stopped as his eyes brushed over the laptop artifact. “Oh, I see. So I’m assuming this is one of Arthur’s memories?”

“Yes” Jenkins replied somberly, watching his old friend out of the corner of his eye. Arthur had not seemed to notice the return of the Librarian and his Guardian, still staring intently at the photo of the book in its cradle. “Arthur saw this book as a boy, right before the Countess and her servants were arrested.”

“Looks like a pretty ornate Book of Shadows” Flynn mused, peering intently at the photo. “This inscription around its perimeter is odd.”

“I think it’s the binding spell holding the souls of her victims in the prison of her Book” Arthur rumbled, pushing the photo away from him. “It’s dark magic – not my specialty. Maybe father would know…”

Stone watched the young king’s face as he tried not to look at the picture. “Something else about this bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“You mean besides the fact that dozens, maybe hundreds of souls were scavenged from tortured, dying bodies to fuel some madwoman’s quest for power and beauty?” Arthur replied with a growl. “Yeah – there are several somethings about this that bother me.”

“Get specific” Baird said, pulling up a chair across from their friend. “What is in that book that might pose a problem or threat to the Librarians?”

“It needs to be destroyed but…” Arthur hesitated, gently turning the print around so Baird could get a better look. “I think it might be more difficult that just setting the thing on fire.”

“Arthur” Jenkins sat down beside his oldest friend and laid a comforting hand on the man’s arm. “It’s not just the spells, is it? You don’t really think that after all these centuries…”

“That something of the souls she ripped out of her victims might still be alive in that book?” Arthur said, looking up at the old knight. “Yeah, Galais, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“But it’s been almost five hundred years!” Cassandra exclaimed. “Surely nothing could still be…”

“The human soul is something rather like immortal” Arthur replied gently. “It exists in time and space until the All Father calls it home. But these souls have been trapped in a dark space, a world of torture and horror where they could not hear the voice of God anymore, could not hear him calling them to paradise. It’s possible the candle flame that was their souls flickered and died eventually but if it didn’t, if they remained trapped in that nightmare world, in endless horror and pain… what manner of creature would emerge from the darkness after all this time? I’m not sure now that destroying the book and setting them free would be the best and safest solution for all concerned.”

Stone took a ragged breath. “You’re saying we could make things worse by letting souls loose on the world who have been driven mad with the torture of their environment.”

Arthur gently pushed Jenkins hand off his arm. “I have not the knowledge to guide you in this – but I know someone who does.”

“Your father?” Baird guessed, watching the young king prepare to leave.

“No – my brother’s teacher Master Christoph. He is a necromancer – a practitioner of magic involving communication with the dead. If anyone will know this spell and understand the ramifications of releasing those souls unto the world it will be him.” He waved a hand at the door, starting it rotating faster and faster as it sought and eventually found the entrance to the Fae Kingdom’s Black Gates. “My advice – don’t go looking for the book until I get back with Christoph.” He stepped through the shimmering door and was gone.

Jones pulled up a chair and slouched into it. “Great advice – if we knew where to look for where the book actually was.”

“No sign of it in the castle?” Stone asked.

“Not that I could see” Jones admitted with a shrug. “Problem was – I couldn’t get to any of the more interesting parts of the place. We were pretty much stuck in what Flynn called the “Great Room” – which frankly didn’t look all that great to me.”

“Didn’t the tour guide mention restorations were being done on the castle?” Baird commented thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t they have to have plans submitted to the local authorities before they could make any repairs or changes?”

Jones smiled. “If we could get our hands on those plans I could use Munchausen’s top to find the book just like I did to find that hellish contract your “friend” signed.”

“Or we could just look at the plans and see where the corridor leading from the kitchen is and follow it down to the basement” Stone growled. 

“Yeah – we could do it that way too” Jones agreed cheerily. “But using the top is quicker.”

Flynn glanced at Baird quizzically. “You had a friend who signed a contract with Hell?”

Baird shrugged. “Sort of – long story. We fixed that situation and the contract is in some deep, dark pit in the library so no issues there. But Jones has a point. If we can get him a copy of those plans…”

“How can this thing still be hidden after hundreds of years?” Baird asked with a frown. “Most of the older artifacts we’ve collected eventually turned up because someone went poking around where they shouldn’t have and ran across them. Yet this book seems to be hidden well enough even the Library can’t seem to pin-point its location.”

“Maybe there is a spell around it – like the one Rowan found around the items used by that serial killer – the one we ran into when we first met both her and Arthur.” Cassandra’s voice took on a serious edge. “Or maybe someone has found it and just doesn’t know how to activate it.”

Jenkins fingers twitched unconsciously as they did when he was deep in thought. “If Miss Cassandra is correct about a spell hiding the book – then the person who cast the spell was powerful indeed to have created something that lasted as long as it has. And if someone has found the book…”

“Then we need to move faster to find THEM before they figure out how to access the power of the grimoire.” Flynn replied solemnly. 

“Arthur said not to go looking for the book until he got back” Cassandra pointed out.

“What Arthur doesn’t know won’t get us beheaded” Jones quipped.

“I wouldn’t count on that” Jenkins mumbled. 

In the Dragon temple, Fae Lands

Arthur walked slowly up to the temple gates, running the scenarios in his head. If the book had been found and someone was trying to use it as Countess Báthory had done then the bodies of the missing women would have been found. “So – book hasn’t been found yet” he mused, looking up at the tall, black lacquer gates. “But someone is looking and making preparations for when it is found.”

“When what is found?” a mild voice commented. Arthur turned to find himself looking into Master Christoph’s gentle brown eyes. “Are you looking for your younger brother, my King? I think he mentioned taking his younger monks on a “road trip” down to the Valley of Clouds for some meditation.”

Arthur reached out and took the old man’s hand in his. “No, Master, I’m actually looking for you. I have a quandary that I think only you can solve. And part of me is afraid of what your solution will be.”

Christoph’s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well then” he said calmly. “Perhaps we can discuss this in the temple over a good cup of hot tea.”

Arthur groaned. “I HATE tea.” 

The necromancer chuckled. “So I’ve heard you say. Come along, my King, and tell me your tale of woe.” He tapped on the gates gently with his walking staff, and led his sovereign in when it they were opened. 

Back in the Library

Stone, searching through the Library’s incredible collection of artwork and drawing, eventually managing to find old pen and ink representations of Čachtice castle done at the time of the original crimes. Jones had also managed to get more current drawings down by a survey company and submitted as part of the renovation plans to the city. He had managed that little surprise by hacking the government’s archives and planning commissions, something both Baird and Flynn chose to ignore. 

“Okay, so using Munchausen’s top” Jones said happily, setting the artifact in motion over the most current set of plans, “we can ask for Book of Shadows, secret room, Čachtice castle and…” The group watched as the top spin wildly for a moment the settled over one small section of the drawings. “Okay then – this is probably as close as we’re going to get to a location.”

Cassandra eyed the drawing dubiously. “The magic being used to hide the book must be making it hard for the top to pinpoint. It looks like it’s pointing to… well, nothing at all.”

“Arthur remembered following the Countess’s servant through the kitchen area, down a corridor and to a door covered by a tapestry.” Baird eyed the drawings pensively, pointing with a finger to where the “kitchen” area might have originally been. “I’m going to make a guess that what the top is actually pointing towards isn’t some random hallway on the main floor but a lower level – maybe a basement or dungeon area. He didn’t mention going down stairs – but then maybe he just didn’t think about it. After all, this was a ten year old boy who was used to structures like this, following a grown man into a dark castle…”

“And knowing that if he got caught his dad would tan his backside for not staying where he was supposed to.” Stone said with a grin. “I’m betting he really wasn’t paying all that much attention to where he was going. Probably figured those sigils he put on the walls would help him get back to the entrance if things went bad.”

“Yes – that does sound like something my friend would do” Jenkins commented dryly. “It seems growing up didn’t have much effect on his thought processes at all. He was always far too reckless for his own good.”

Baird grinned. “And yet you followed him from battle to battle – so what does that say about you?”

Jenkins shrugged, trying to hide his own smile. “I was younger then.”

The sound of the back door activating interrupted the discussions. As the Librarian’s watched, the door opened and a cloaked figure strode in. Throwing back his hood, Master Christoph smiled at his hosts and bowed. “Greetings, residents of the Great Library. My Lord and King says my humble services might be of use to you.”

“Arthur isn’t coming back?” Cassandra asked, peering behind the sorcerer’s stocky figure as the door behind him closed. “Not that we aren’t happy to see you too” she added hurriedly. 

Christoph shrugged. “I gathered from my conversation with my King that he thought it best not to get too close to this hunt until he was needed.” He peered curiously at the stacks of drawing on the table, held down by the curious top-like artifact. “I’m assuming you’ve used that to find the room where the Book of Shadows might be located?”

“We have an idea where it MIGHT be” Flynn said, waving a hand at the map. “But I got the impression Arthur wasn’t so concerned about our finding it as about what we were going to do with it once we did.”

“Arthur was able to create a couple of print images from a memory from his childhood – an image out of time of what the book looked like just before the Countess was arrested.” Jenkins fished the print out of the pile of drawings and held it out to the old man. “He seemed to think you might have an idea what to do after it was discovered.”

Christoph took the photo gingerly from the Library’s Caretaker and examined it closely. “My King was right to be concerned” he sighed, laying it back on the table. “The binding spell stamped into its bindings does, in fact, turn it from reference book to prison for souls.”

“Arthur was afraid of what would happen if we destroyed the physical book and freed anything still trapped within it” Stone said, somberly.

“As well he should be.” Christoph looked over the gathering, mortals and immortals alike, with concern. “These souls have been imprisoned for centuries. Release them and in their madness they are likely to do almost anything – even kill.”

“What if someone tries to make use of the power of the spells in the book?” Flynn asked, a coldness creeping up his spine. “Would they allow that?”

Christoph shook his head. “It would take a power greater than most mortal magic users are capable of wielding to control what might be powering that book. Anyone who tries is doomed to fail.”

“Oh great!” Jones said sarcastically “So we can’t destroy the book but we can’t let it be used either. So what do we do with it?”

“Bring it here to the Library where it can be contained” Flynn replied.

“We can’t just leave those poor souls rotting away in that madwoman’s psychic prison” Stone protested. “We have to help them!”

“And you will, young librarian” Christoph said quietly. “Bur first – you must find the book.”


	10. Where's the door?

Still in the Library

 

Stone sighed and pushed back the drawings he had been reviewing. Flynn, Baird and Jones had left hours ago, returning to the old castle in hopes of searching the grounds while the weather kept the tour group contained. Jenkins and Cassandra, with help from Master Christoph, had been poking around tomes that spoke of soul cages and how they could be opened without destroying either the captured souls or any would-be rescuer. Stone had resigned himself to staring at the castle drawings again, hoping to make something out of the blueprints that the rest had not already noted. “Okay, let’s review what we know. Based on Arthur’s memory of his visit, there should be a secret passage to the basement / dungeon in this back area of the castle. But if that is accurate then why hasn’t someone already found it? The plans show every OTHER door in the place, including ones that do go down to the lower levels. But not one that is anywhere near the kitchens. Maybe Arthur got it wrong? It has been hundreds of years since he was exploring that hall as a boy. It’s possible he got his directions mixed up.”

Jenkins shook his head. “Doubtful. Arthur’s sense of direction has always been uncanny. I can’t imagine he’d be that off no matter how young he was or how long ago it was.”

“You really don’t think he can do ANYTHING wrong, don’t you?” Stone said, waving at the plans. “But the facts say that door just isn’t there.”

Cassandra frowned. “You would think anyone doing restoration on the building would have noticed a random entrance to the basement and made a point of showing it on the drawings submitted to the city planners.”

Master Christoph, old necromancer, looked up from his scroll with a smile. “Or maybe someone didn’t want, if that entrance was found, to risk having tourists traipsing through dark, dank cells that probably reeked of mold and rats. From what my King has told me of this world, its people are very litigious. Lawsuits filed by sick or frightened foreigners would not bode well for a newly formed tourist trap.”

Jenkins closed the ornate book he had been pursuing with a thud. “What if the Grimoire isn’t even in THIS castle but was, as Mr. Stone postulated at the start of this search, sent to the Countess’s illegitimate son in Wallachia? We may be searching in totally the wrong area.”

Master Christoph shook his head. “While I suspect that is a possibility, it’s not the most likely one. While I understand that illegitimacy wasn’t quite the “sin” in this reality that it later became, the family would not have trusted such a weapon to someone they did not have total and complete trust and / or control over. And, from what little I’ve read about the woman, the story of this child is only a speculation with no facts to back it up. He may or may not even have existed at all – much less been in a position to become the guardian of such a dreadful tome. I would be more inclined to think that the Book of Shadows we are searching for is in still in Čachtice castle and hidden from prying eyes by a well-placed spell of concealment.”

“One that lasted five hundred plus years?” Stone asked, skeptically.

“The ancient castle that was the home of the Fae Royal house prior to the Devil’s war on Heaven was concealed from the view of the darkness that over took our lands for far longer than this book has been in existence” the old man replied, somberly. “It was only when my King and Queen united with the Master of the Dragon temple that the spell was erased.”

“Maybe THAT’s the problem” Cassandra said, an excited note to her voice. “Maybe something has to happen for the book to be revealed, something that hasn’t occurred yet.”

“Which would explain the bodies of the missing women have not been found” Jenkins agreed. “Either their lives are needed as a sacrifice to reveal the book…”

“Or, Master Knight, they are being kept in reserve so that their souls can be inserted into the book when it is found, to… charge its batteries? I think that is what Master Khan would call the action… am I correct?” Christoph looked around at the horrified expressions on the Librarian’s faces with a sigh. “This quest is dark, almost as dark as some we undertook to free the Fae lands. Best we find a way to the end before any more innocents are sacrificed for the sake of power and vanity.’

“Amen to that” Stone muttered. 

 

At Čachtice castle

Flynn walked aimlessly around the great hall, keeping the tour group’s guide in sight as he examined the walls. From where he was standing he could see Baird doing the same thing, walking around the edge of the room, keeping the van driver squarely in her sights. He wasn’t exactly sure where Jones had disappeared to and hoped that wherever he was the young thief wasn’t getting into more trouble that he could get out of. “A vain hope” the Librarian muttered to himself.

“What’s a vain hope?” a cheery voice replied beside him. Jones appeared, holding a bag of chips in one hand and a soda can in the other. “Hoping for more than chips and drinks? Cause you’re kind of out of luck there, mate. Only other thing this bunch brought with them was a bunch of limp sandwiches I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

“Feeding your stomach isn’t high on my list of priorities right now” Flynn hissed, finding a quiet corner to occupy as they talked. “Did you find that door that Arthur talked about?”

“Nope – and I managed to sneak past that pair watching over us and go from here all the way back to where the plans said the old kitchens were. Didn’t find anything. Didn’t even find a door down to the basement level – which is strange cause a place like that you know HAS to have a basement.”

“Odd” Flynn mused. “Arthur said the door was behind a hanging cloth of some kind…”

“Which has probably rotted away after five hundred years” Jones said, calmly snacking away on the chips. “So…where’s the door?”

Baird motioned from across the room for the two men to join her in the entrance to the castle. “Just got a call from Stone” she said once the Librarians were gathered around her. “He says Master Christoph believes that there might be a spell on the book to keep it hidden from anyone likely to try to find it.”

“Which would explain why Jones isn’t able to find the door to that torture chamber” Flynn replied excitedly. “I’m betting the book never left the room Arthur first saw it in and now that spell is covering any trace of it from us.”

“Great – so we need to know what magic spell would make the door become visible before we can get close to the book” Baird grumbled. “Nothing is every easy with these assignments.”

“It’s been hidden for hundreds of years – how do we find the right spell to make it visible to us if no one else has?” Jones asked, watching as the two young English women he had been talking too started to drift towards the huge stone fireplace.

“We keep our eyes on the people who brought us here” Flynn replied, peering over Baird’s shoulder at their tour guide. “I have to believe they may know more about what’s going in then they are saying.”

“Considering they aren’t saying ANYTHING other than strand us in an old and drafty castle I’d would normally say that’s kind of a stretch” Baird said with a shrug. “But I’m with Arthur on this one – it’s too coincidental that the people involved in the tour have the same names as two of Countess Bathory’s servants.”

“Could just be family names” Jones protested. 

“Could be” Baird admitted. “But right now – I’m not sure I’m willing to risk anymore disappearances on coincidence.”

 

Across the room, the two young women Jones had been following around, Cindy and Candice, examined the old stone fireplace critically. “Lovely workmanship” Candice commented. “Pity they will have to tear it out and rebuild it to bring it up to code.”

Cindy shrugged. “Pity it won't stay lit – we could use the warmth.” She glanced across the room briefly at Flynn and Baird, watching as the young Aussie traveling with them positioned himself to watch their guide and her driver. “Wonder where they disappeared to.”

Candice shrugged. “Maybe they just went outside for a breath of air.”

“Oh Please!” the young American girl replied in annoyance. “One minute they were standing in a corner next to the castle entrance then they were gone with no trace. Next thing we know they had reappeared beside the door into the castle. They weren’t there a minute before – the door had been opened for a minute I would have seen them if they had been just outside. So where did they go?”

Candice looked down at her cellphone with concern. “No signal – so we can’t update our web group about what’s going on.”

“Can’t get a message to Lucy Lyons either – and that worries me.” Cindy’s voice had lost its bubbly enthusiasm, sounding more and more nervous. “I wish we had contacted her before we left the inn.”

“What could she have done for us?” Candice replied practically. “She’s in the U.S. and we’re here – not like she could have sent reinforcements.”

“No – but we could have asked her about that professor Carson and his wife. There is something about them – something I’m not sure about.”

Candice glanced over at the trio, still standing in the entrance to the Great Room. “I thought you liked the little Australian student traveling with them.”

Cindy flushed slightly. “I do – but he’s not telling us the whole story either. Remember what the group said after the last two women disappeared from our tour group? Trust no one but your partner.”

Candice fished a tablet from inside her jacket and briefly check a file on it. “That’s not important now. We have to find that door into the Countess’s torture room if we’re going to prove our theory about what really happened five hundred years ago. Come on, the diary said the door was just shy of the kitchen area.”

“It also said it was veiled” Cindy replied with a shrug. “How do we find it if we can’t see it?”

“I have an idea about how to deal with that” Candice said thoughtfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to post - between furlough and other matters I've had a hard time getting back to it. It should come more quickly now.


	11. Lights go out - and theories emerge

Night falls on the castle

The group’s tour guide, Dorothy Szolgálo, took a stand in the center of the great room and cleared her throat noisily. “Attention, please! It seems the weather is going to be uncooperative, at least for a few hours, making a return to the village impossible. For safety sake we will need to stay in the castle overnight and hope the storm is lessened in the morning. We have blankets and of course the furniture that was bought for the reconstruction of the manor is available but please... if you choose to sleep in the chairs or other such items take care not to put muddy packs or clothing on them. The local authorities who are funding this restoration would not be pleased to have to replace the furniture before the castle has been re-opened.” She flashed a pained smile at her increasingly unhappy group. “I know this is NOT what was promised when you book this tour but weather in these mountains is unpredictable at best. We will try to make your stay here as comfortable as possible.”

Flynn held up a hand. “Perhaps now would be a good time to tell us about Countess Bathory, whose home this used to be?”

“Yeah” Jones said with a grin. “Was she really the wicked witch history has painted her to be or was she just misunderstood ? Friend of mine went on a tour of Dracula’s castle and the locals pretty much sang his praises – despite the fact the dude was a blood-thirsty psycho.”

Dorothy grimaced. “Yes, well, history is written by the victors isn’t it young sir? And the world of the Prince Vlad and Countess Elizabeth is different from the sterile, timid world of today. They had enemies who stood at their borders, ready to destroy all those who dared to declare fealty to their kings. Those who took up sword against the reigning houses would not be placated with pretty words and promises. They would only be dealt with by cold, hard steel and blood.”

Baird frowned. “Sounds like what’s still happening in parts of the world today” she muttered. 

“The Countess was a woman out of her time, educated, strong, and able to manage her estates even after the death of her husband” Dorothy continued, ignoring Baird’s comment. “Her independence was what kept her lands strong – what ultimately led to her downfall.”

Flynn cocked his head inquisitively. “Are you saying that the charges against the Countess were cooked up by someone wanting to bring her down?”

“Yes” Dorothy hissed, her eyes manically bright. “The King owed money to her and to her family. The landed gentry were horrified at a woman in charge of such vast estates without a man to rule over her. And the peasants…”

“Yeah, the peasants” Jones quipped. “The people whose daughters came to work for the Countess and were never found alive again. How does their story fit into this?”

At that moment lightning ripped across the rain-soaked countryside, light flooding through the windows – then flooding the room with darkness as the generator ceased to function. A few surprised screams rang through the great room as the tourists huddled together in the darkness, stunned by the light show outside.

“Please – no one move!” Dorothy called out. “We will have the generator working shortly but until then János will find candles for us. Do not move around from where you are standing until we can provide you with more light. It would not do for our “guests” to injure themselves falling over construction materials outside of this room.”

Baird fished a small flashlight out of her jacket (something she had taken to carrying with her ever since the issue with the Minotaur and the Maze) and flashed its light on Flynn. “Well, that was convenient. Lights go out right about the time the conversation was getting good.”

Flynn shrugged. “No matter how she tries to frame it – the events that occurred in this castle were horrific even for the time. The Countesses victims were not enemy soldiers captured after a raid – they were innocent girls who had been desperate enough to try to find employment with the wealthiest and most brutal royal in their history.”

Jones squinted into the darkness, searching the shadows. “Hey, Baird, can you point that light towards where the fireplace is?” he asked, sounding slightly unsure. “The two girls, Cindy and Candice were over there when the lights went out but now…”

Baird swung her penlight carefully in the direction Jones indicated. “They’re not there now” she replied. “You don’t suppose…”

“They did say they were part of Lucy Lyons web forum” Jones said quietly. “Maybe that’s why they are really here – to report on some new magic they’ve traced to this place.”

“New magic – like a murderous Book of Shadows” Baird murmured grimly.

Back in the Library

“Cassandra!” Stone called out. “You’ve got a message from Lucy Lyons!”

“Oh good!” Cassandra replied, happily. “I was hoping she’d see the text I sent her and get back to me.”

“Lucy Lyons?” Master Christoph asked quietly. “Is she another of your librarians?”

“No – she’s a civilian” Stone said, glancing over at Cassandra as she rapdily read through the message. “Brilliant young woman with an interest in proving that magic does exist. We met her on one of our missions when she accidently opened a rift into another reality and almost released a Hybristic into our world.”

“A Hybristic?” Christoph replied, eyes wide. “And she was not punished for her acts?”

“It wasn’t entirely her fault” Jenkins admitted reluctantly. “Once magic was released back into the world by the Serpent Brotherhood it became harder and harder to keep event like this concealed from the general public. Fortunately, Ms. Lyons was bright enough to realize what her mistake had almost cost the world and has become an asset in keeping us informed when others might be getting too close to something dangerous as she did.”

“Which is what she was wanting to tell me about” Cassandra called out. “She’s going to be calling in to my cellphone with something she thinks we need to know about concerning the disappearances.” The red-head’s cell started to play the theme from the Twilight Zone, with Lucy’s name on the screen. Cassandra answered it quickly. ‘Lucy! I’m putting you on speaker. Stone, Jenkins and a friend of ours Master Christoph are with me.”

“Where is Col. Baird?” Lucy’s disembodied voice asked, a worried tone to her words.

“In Hungary with Flynn and Jones touring Čachtice castle. We think something or someone at the ruin might have something to do with the disappearance of several young women in the last months.” Stone glanced over at Jenkins, who was calmly sorting through a stack of scrolls they had not had time to look through.

“Those disappearances are what I needed to talk to you about” Lucy said. “Two of the people in my magical occurrences forum are also out there and the last time anyone heard from them, they were about to tour that castle to see if Candice’s theory was correct.”

“What theory?” Cassandra asked, casting worried glances back at Stone and Jenkins.

“Candice and Cindy have both been studying the history of the Blood Countess as part of a project for their medieval history class at University.” Lucy’s voice took on a conversational note, as though there discussing nothing more earth shattering than the weather. “Candice came across some old documents in her family’s home – translations of even older works that spoke about Elizabeth Bathory and her crimes. Whoever wrote those original documents believed that Bathory was a witch and was using blood sacrifices to keep herself beautiful and in power.”

“Pretty much the story everyone’s heard” Stone said with a shrug. “Nothing new about that.”

“No – but what was new, at least to Candice, was the mention of diaries that the Countess had kept during the years when she was performing the sacrifices. And in those diaries it was supposed that she mentioned who had started her on the path towards darkness in the first place. That was what Candice wanted desperately to find.”

“Why?” Cassandra asked quizzically.

“Because there was a family legend about someone in Candice’s father’s family tree being related to the Bathorys and that it was THIS person who might have created the Book of Shadows for Elizabeth, the tome she used during her blood rituals.” 

Stone glanced over at Master Christoph who was staring at the phone with a frown. “What’s that look for?”

“Something… unsettling” the old man admitted. “A possible blood relation to the Countess, in her home, looking for her Book of Shadows with young women disappearing around her. It brings up a theory to me that neither my King nor I had considered.”

“What theory?” Jenkins asked.

“That someone isn’t trying to tap into the power of the Book for themselves but is trying to use it to resurrect someone – or to release someone’s soul from its depths.”

“One of the former victims?” Stone said, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“No – I think perhaps the last entrant into the Soul Cage may have been the Countess herself. I think someone maybe trying to find the book in order to resurrect HER!”


	12. A horrible theory

Stone and Cassandra stared at the old necromancer in horror. “But why? Why would she willingly lock herself up with the souls of victims of her cruelty?

“She would not necessarily have to be in the same portion of the soul cage as those unfortunates” Christoph mused. “It is possible that, like any other prison, there would be a section for the “warden” of the jail to inhabit – a place safe from the possible retaliation that could be visited upon her by those poor wretches she’s trapped within that nightmare. In that space she could continue to exist, feeding off the life and grace of those she had murdered and whose grace was imprisoned in the book.”

“What would that get her?” Lucy’s voice called out from the phone. “What good would it do her to be trapped like her victims?”

“I suspect she was not as “trapped” as they were” Christoph said grimly. “She maybe just waiting, in this horrific sanctuary for what would come next.”

“Which would be what, exactly?” Stone asked.

“There is a spell” the old man said, hesitantly. “How much has my King told you about the war to redeem the Fae realms?”

“Very little” Jenkins admitted. “Arthur has never seemed to want to revisit that event except at the occasional battlefield story.”

“We, the Fay Folk, were created after the angels and created a land of wonder on the lower sphere of Heaven” Christoph began, sinking into a chair with a sigh. “But when Lucifer rose up to try to overthrow the Throne of God, the Fae were faced with a dilemma. Fight and defend the throne or yield their sphere to the demons who rose up to fight for the Morningstar. The Royal House chose to support neither side, deciding instead to close the Black Gates to both Heaven and Hell in hopes to keep the war from our people – but they chose poorly. Many, like my King’s family, had already gone out to serve in the Lord’s army and were trapped outside of the gates when the demon hordes poured in and closed them against the defenders. Time, for most of the realm, stopped. But not for all.”

“What does that have to do with this spell Bathory might have found?” Stone asked, anxiously. 

“In those parts of the land where time did not come to a halt, the demons reigned supreme using their traitorous collaborators to control the few wretches who still remained in those blighted lands. To keep these minions under their control, they offered them immortality – but immortality bought at the price of another’s life. Many rounded up any magic users such as fairy, elves, and other such and simply ripped their life forces from them to feed their need for long life. Others were crueler - they sired children on the enslaved folk they reigned over and sacrificed those lives instead of their own.” Christoph lowered his eyes as the memories flooded back. “When King Phoenix and his Lady Queen come together with the brothers of the Dragon Temple to free our lands the first thing they cleaned from the worlds was that particular sadistic magic. All those who had partaken of it were stripped of their powers – even to the most basic of magic – and exiled from the realm. The King even stripped their blood line of any possibility of magic so that such abominations would not occur again.”

“Good for Arthur! That was a horrible thing for those people to have done – using their own to feed their need for power! But what does that history of your land have to do with the Countess locking herself up with all those poor innocents she murdered?” Cassandra asked, her eyes filling with tears for those long dead victims of the war.

“It’s possible that whoever originally created the Book of Shadows for the Countess may have known the spell craft needed to transfer life energy from those captive souls to their murderess – and eventually bring her back to life. My King says that the spell isn’t all that difficult. It just requires a cold heart, a blighted soul and some degree of magical ability – which the Countess may have had when all of these murders started. Of course, once she started down that path, the more she took from her victims the stronger that original spark of magic may have become.”

“Wait!” Stone protested. “This nutcase has been dead over five hundred years. You’re trying to tell me that the power of those souls in her book could resurrect her rotted corpse?”

“No – but it could transfer her soul into the living body of a blood relative” Jenkins gasped in horror. “That’s why the bodies of the women who disappeared have not been found. Whoever is behind this needs to find the book, charge it like you would a battery with NEW life essence, then free the Countess from her cell so that she can take over the form of her relation…?”

“Oh no!” Lucy’s voice called out. “Candice’s family fortunes have been going downhill for years. He father committed suicide after he was charged with embezzlement just last year. From what Cindy has told me, Candice grew up in better circumstances than she has available to her now and is having a difficult time adjusting to the change in her circumstances. If someone offered her a chance to be the heir to the Bathory family fortunes, to be forever young and beautiful…”

“Poor Candice!” Cassandra gasped. “But wouldn’t she need to be a willing sacrifice?”

“She might just jump at the chance” Stone rumbled. “We need to contact Flynn and Baird. They need to know what they are up against.”

In Čachtice castle

Baird snatched her communications stone off her jacket and dragged her two companions into a corner. “Jenkins – any news?”

“Yes, Col. Baird – and none of it is good. Master Christoph has a theory.” Jenkins calmly relayed their conversation to the field team, adding that they were still searching the Library’s resources for information on the soul cage.

“Well, that just sucks” Baird muttered. “Looks like we should have kept a closer watch on those two girls.”

“How could we know one of them was related to the Bathory family?” Flynn replied, laying a hand on Baird’s arm. 

“Jenkins” Jones asked, taking the communications pin from his Guardian. “Do we KNOW that the Bathory family has a fortune? I’ve stolen from the best and I’ve NEVER heard of this family other than scary stories told to children. Other than this castle – which I suspect doesn’t belong to the family anymore – what do they have to offer other than a possible chance at immortality?”

“Don’t you think that would be good enough?” Stone’s voice floated out, sounding irritated. 

“Maybe to you but I’d want something more substantial like a Swiss bank account number or evidence of a Caiman islands account.” Jones shrugged. “Immortality is all great until you have to live forever without money.”

“Jones has a point” Baird said quietly. “Cassandra, do a check on the Bathory family. See if they died out years ago or if any of them still exist. And keep looking for that spell to control the soul cage. If we can keep it from being opened, all of this may end up being a moot point.”

“Yeah – except for the souls still trapped inside it” Stone replied grimly.


	13. Family histories and reasons for why

Later that night

In the Library

Jenkins stared at the stack of scrolls he had pulled out for the Librarians to review, wondering if another pot of strong coffee would help matters. Master Christoph had returned to the Fae realm hours ago, pleading old age and exhaustion. “Sadly, I am not as young as I once was” the old necromancer had said with a sad smile. “And I should return home and report our suspicions to my King before it gets any later.”

“Arthur use to be quite the night owl” Jenkins commented dryly.

“Yes – well that was before he had a kingdom to run and two younger siblings to keep track of” Christoph had replied with a laugh. “And, of course, there is the elder Seraphim angel who acts as their guard. He finds it amusing to wake them all at some ungodly hour of the morning and set them running up and down the landscape for “exercise” – or so he says. Personally, I think it just amuses him to see them run.”

Stone laughed. “Yeah – kind of got the idea that angel was kind of a hard-ass.”

Christoph shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. “Perhaps he is – but his love for our Royal house and specifically for our young Queen makes him quite tolerable.” He bowed his head over his folder hands in with a whisper of wind disappeared from sight.

Stone stared at the spot the old man had occupied for a moment with a frown. “Damn! Forgot for a minute he was a magic user.” He turned back one of the books he had pulled which spoke of spells of imprisonment and quietly went back to work.

Jenkins had taken that opportunity to peruse other topics, specifically a family history of Candice Lockhart – the British girl Lucy had spoken of. With Cassandra’s help he had found information on the young woman’s father, including news clippings on his suicide. “Tragic” he muttered, reading through the brief description of his death. “And even more tragic that his daughter was the one to find him.”

“That’s sad” Cassandra had agreed. “But this really doesn’t give us much information on the immediate family, does it? Maybe…” She quickly ran yet another search and found the site she was looking for. “Maybe this will help – it’s a commercial genealogy program where people can find all sorts of information on their family histories including if other family members have done work on it all ready.”

“Considering the age of the connection I think it would be a rare thing to find documentation linking current day families to those alive during the time of the Blood Countess” Jenkins mused. “But it’s not impossible – most royal families were carefully documented as part of their historical legacy.”

“Unless their children were illegitimate” Cassandra replied, pulling up historical documentation pertaining to the Báthory family. “That story about the boy born before Elizabeth’s marriage – we might never be able to prove it with any certainty…”

“I wonder” Jenkins replied cautiously. “We know that the Countesses diaries went missing and only some of her letters are still in existence and on display. What if one of those diaries contained information on this child – perhaps where he was sent after his birth or the name of the family he was passed on to? Her personal history, written in her own hand, would be proof of that rumor.”

“Yes but…” Cassandra said hesitantly. “Most commoners wouldn’t be documented like those with royal blood so even IF there was a name attached to a possible child written in the Countesses hand how would anyone be able to trace that family through history and find her current descendent?”

“Church records” Jenkins sighed. “If they were not destroyed in the multitude of wars that have occurred in that area from the early 1600’s to today, then a good researcher could use them to make some educated guesses and possibly fill in a broken path straight to someone in her family tree. They would be taking a risk – especially if they have to use secondary sources and a lot of speculation to fill in the blanks but considering the power available at the end of the road – someone might think it was worth it.”

“What if they were wrong?” Cassandra asked breathlessly. “What if they thought someone like Candice was a relation to the Countess but she really wasn’t? What would happen to that young woman when those people trying to resurrect the Countess cast their spell and she wasn’t what they thought she was?”

“Two possible outcomes” Jenkins replied soberly. “One – her soul would be dragged into the cage along with the others who have been imprisoned, kept in torment for whoever is trying to perpetrate this obscenity to try again. Or – it would kill her outright.”

“Got it!” Stone called out from his end of the table. He waved at a yellowed scroll laid out in front of him, crumbling and brown at the edges. “This talks about a magician who tried to create a soul cage for a king and ended up being its first prisoner. It talks about using a well-used Book of Shadows, linking it to the dark heart of a magic user desperate for power and longevity. Once the book was open and the spell read, then all that would be required was a blood sacrifice to allow the innocent soul to be imprisoned and the force of that person’s essence passed on through the blood to whoever was casting the spell.”

“Who was the wizard responsible for this?” Jenkins rumbled solemnly. 

“Doesn’t give a name – only says he was a wandering mage who begged sanctuary from the house of Báthory after he had escaped a Moorish prince who had wanted to use his gift for creating spells against his enemies.” Stone pointed to a barely visible line of text with a flourish. “Seems that Countess Báthory’s husband Ferenc Nádasdy was the one who took him in, probably intending to use him against his Ottman enemies.”

“And then turned the magic user’s gift against him” Jenkin’s voice dripped with disdain. “Lovely human being.”

Stone nodded. “Yeah – from what I’ve read on the family this marriage was more a union of family money than anything else. His family wasn’t as old or influential as his wife’s which is why he took her family’s name instead of the other way around. Elizabeth was considered very well educated for a woman of her age, speaking multiple different languages. Fergenc could barely read and write in his mother tongue and only had a basic understanding of Latin and German. On top of that he was a sadist when it came to Ottoman prisoners, using public display of impalement as a standard punishment. His death at just short of fifty has never really been explained – which makes me wonder if he wasn’t the first of his wife’s victims to die. His death pretty much freed her to do whatever she wanted – including becoming a serial murderer – in their ancestral home.”

Jenkins glanced at the history of the family Stone had been reading previously. “Well – here’s something interesting. If the thought was that bringing the Countess back to life would imbue her new host form and her servitors with wealth they will be sorely disappointed. According to this the four children born to Ferenc and Elizabeth’s union were accused by Emperor Matthias after her death of being complicit in the crimes of their mother. The family’s vast land holding were seized by the crown and the descendants of Ferenc and Elizabeth were banished from Hungary and ended up in Poland. The family legacy essentially died at that point.”

“So no fortune to be had by bringing her back to life” Stone mused. “Why do it then?”

“It’s a new age, Mr. Stone. Perhaps the people responsible for this are hoping to leverage the Countess’s powers and make a new fortune for themselves. I can imagine groups like the Serpent Brotherhood would pay a pretty penny to have someone as talented in magic as this on their side.” Jenkin’s voice dripped with distaste as he closed the history book.”

“Or maybe someone wants to clear her name and expose the person really responsible for those crimes being committed” Cassandra said, hopefully.

Jenkins shook his head. “Doubtful. But whatever the reasoning – we must make sure Mr. Flynn and Col. Baird locate Ms. Constance Lockhart before she does something irreparably foolish.”

“If she hasn’t already” Stone replied somberly.

In Čachtice castle

Candice and Cindy crept quietly down the silent corridor leading from the old kitchens to the entrance to the dungeon areas. “Are you sure this will work?” Cindy asked, hesitantly.

“If the book my grandmother had is right – all I need to do is touch the stones where the family crest is inscribed. The spell should recognize me as a blood relation and let me enter into the secret room.” 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cindy asked in a worried tone. “I mean – there wasn’t much detail in that diary you found to tell us what would happen if you did open the door.”

Candice frowned as she watched a rat the size of a squirrel skitter off down the hall. “I’m sure we’ll find evidence to prove my ancestor was wrongly accused of those horrible crimes – and then I can publish my thesis, maybe even publish commercially and bring honor back to my family. But we need to hurry. Someone is likely to be looking for us if we disappear too long. The sooner we find that door the better.”

Cindy stopped suddenly and flashed her pin light up at a set of darkened stones above her head. “Wait – isn’t that…?”

Candice squinted in the dim light. “YES! That’s it. The symbol of the Báthory family! We’ve found it!”


	14. What's in a name?

In the Great Room of Čachtice castle

Baird and Flynn quietly milled around the still cold and nervous tourists who had traveled to the castle with them, searching for a sign of the two young women. Jones, floating around the outer edge of the group, kept his eyes on the tour guide and her burly van driver – both of which were huddled in a corner, whispering frantically to one another. “Something going on there” he muttered, making his way across the room to his team.

Baird turned to the young thief, silencing her communication stone as she did so. “Jenkins just sent a message – they think that Candice maybe a descendant of the Countess via her illegitimate son.”

“I didn’t know she had one.” Flynn frowned at the information, rapidly running through what he knew about the history of the family. “Oh – yes! It was as story that came up when some historian took it upon himself to document the Bathory family. Not sure it was ever REALLY proven…”

Baird sighed. “Listen – I don’t care if there isn’t a mountain of paperwork proving beyond a sliver of a doubt that Candice is, in fact, a Báthory. All I care about right now is that she thinks she is – and is looking for a book that could either give her great power or use her so that someone else gets power. Either way, we need to find those girls!”

“Question?” Jones asked, nibbling on a sandwich he had “lifted” from the van driver’s coat. “We’ve been concentrating on Candice but what about Cindy? What does anyone know about her?”

“The girls seemed pretty chummy – and Cindy is American based on her passport. Which, by the way, you never really returned to them.” Baird fished the documents out of Jones jacket, sighing as she found other items he had lifted from the castle and its current occupants. “Jones, one of these days…” Her voice petered off as she examined the young American’s passport. “It doesn’t say much we don’t already know about her.”

Flynn took Cindy’s document from Baird and opened Candice’s beside it. “The girls are about the same age, looks like their recent travels parallel each other. Nothing major here.”

“Yeah – so her passport is clean” Jones replied with a shrug. “I had any number of passports with different names and different information and they all looked clean. But none of them told you anything about me. Same probably goes for Cindy.”

“Jones has a point” Baird interjected. “What do we really know about her anyway?” She pulled her communication stone off and tapped it urgently. “We need to get Jenkins and the other working on a background of our little American tourist and quick.”

In the Library

“Reading about Candice’s father’s suicide was pretty gut wrenching” Stone called out, laying a copy of the death notice on the table in front of him. “But why is the name different? Flynn said her name was Candice Dowel.”

“Mother’s maiden name” Cassandra replied, flicking through other family information she had found on the English girl. “She probably changed it after his death. Too many bad memories.” The pretty red-haired Librarian glanced down at the sound of a message coming through on a smile. “Another message from Lucy!” Cassandra called out happily. She pointed at the laptop screen with a grin. “Seems she’s as intrigued by all of this as we are.”

“Call her” Jenkins replied, sweeping a stack of scrolls off the table. “Text and email messages maybe all the rage but I prefer to actually here a voice when talking about these types of situations.”

Both Cassandra and Stone rolled their eyes at their Caretaker’s cranky tone. Jenkins had been uneasy ever since Master Christoph had left the Library though neither librarian could get him to explain why. Stone, however, suspected it might have something to do with Arthur’s continued and unexplained absence. “Okay – let me set this up” Cassandra replied, calling up a Skype session on the computer. A moment later, Lucy Lyon’s face and exuberant voice flooded out of the screen.

“Hey Cassandra, have you found out anything more about what’s going on with Candice and Cindy?”

Cassandra shook her head. “No – but you just sent me a text about some new information you might have and Jenkins wanted to hear what you had to say.”

Lucy shrugged. “It’s not much – just a strange little incident. I tried contacting Cindy’s parents to let them know she and Candice might be a little later coming home then they had anticipated. The number came back as disconnected. I had a member of my forum in Montana where Cindy is supposed to be from do a little checking and she couldn’t find any record of a Fick family anywhere in Montana.”

“I thought her name was Smith.” Stone said.

“That’s what I think Baird and Flynn said” Cassandra said in confusion. “That’s strange.”

“Wait – did you say the family name you have for her was Fick?” Stone said suddenly, grabbing a book from the table. 

“Yes” Lucy responded. “Cindy Fick from Bozeman, Montana. That’s what is on her forum registration. She told us she had received a scholarship to Oxford University to study medieval literature. Cindy became really active in the magic forums just over four years ago during her first year there. If fact, that’s how she met Candice and became her roommate. They discovered they had the same majors, were both on the forums and both in need of help with the rent.”

“What is the problem, Mr. Stone?” Jenkins asked in concern.

“There was a servant who testified against the Countess - János Újváry- whose name might also have been Fickó. Everything we found on the servants of the Countess who might have participated in her crimes suggests they were executed when she was walled up in her castle. But what if they weren’t? What if this one servant – or a member of his family – managed to escape that fate and centuries later immigrated to the United States?”

“Foreign sounding family names were often changed by officials at the port of call” Jenkins replied, agitated. “So the name Fickó could have been simplified to Fick!”

“We can’t be sure of that” Cassandra protested. “Not until we do a background check on Cindy!”

“Which I suggest you get started on quickly” Jenkins retorted. “Before Col. Baird and Mr. Flynn run into issues they are not prepared to handle.”

“This is too wild” Stone growled, laying the book open to the page describing the testimony of the Countess’s servants. “What are the odds that a descendant of the Blood Countess and one of her servants would happen to go to the same college, study for the same degree and become roommates bent on tracking down information on the Báthory family?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences” Jenkins replied sternly. “But I do believe in organizations like the Serpent Brotherhood and others of their kind. It would not be a surprise to me if one such organization might have been “helping” this relationship blossom in order to gain access to the Book of Shadows.”

“Sounds like something he would do” Stone muttered.

“It would also be the family itself” Cassandra mused. “We know the Báthory children and their family were exiled and their lands take from them. But what if they leveraged what little power they had to keep themselves afloat long enough to rebuild under another name.”

“Then why not try for the book before this?” Stone asked.

Jenkins sighed. “The ley lines were not powerful enough. But once Excalibur recharged them…”

“Magic began to flow again – and the family decided it was time to release their ancestress from her prison.” Cassandra’s face had gone pale as she stared her team. In the computer, Lucy Lyons had a horrified look.

“I need to step away for a moment” Jenkins said quietly. “Call Col. Baird and let her know what we think is happening.”

“Where will you be?” Stone asked.

“Trying to convince Arthur, the once and future King, that it’s time for him to intervene.”

In the depths of Čachtice castle

Candice gently pressed down on the stones, activating the enchantment that would allow them to enter the secret room. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then suddenly the stones shone with a hellish glow and the door appeared, already open. “You see! I told you the stones would recognize me!”

“Yes – you did say that” Cindy responded quietly. “So – now what?”

Candice stepped into the dark room, her penlight allowing for little illumination. “We should have brought better lights” she muttered. There was a sudden sound, the feeling of a wind flowing around the girls and suddenly a dozen candles, strategically placed, flickered on to illuminate the room. “Oh – that was just epic!” Candice whispered, slowly moving forward. 

“Not as epic it will be” Cindy responded, pulling a small cloth sock from her pocket. With a flick of her wrist, she used the river stone she had hidden in a woolen sock and - using it as a make-shift cudgel - dropped her friend to the ground with a thud. “Did I do that right, uncle János?”

“Yes, you did that just fine” Dorothy’s voice purred from behind the young woman. “Now, all the piece are in place. It’s time for our Lady to be reborn.”


	15. A request denied - and a battle entered

In the Library

Jenkins closed the door on his workshop with a sigh. This situation was getting more and more complicated. The Librarians were doing a good job with what information they had but the old Caretaker was starting to wonder if this wasn’t one of those times when Flynn and the others should ask for outside help. “Where did I put that onyx ring he gave me?” Jenkins muttered, searching the clutter on his desk until he found it – the platinum and onyx signet ring of the King of Fae. He gathered the items he would need for this summoning and lit the small flame in a brazier, carefully putting the ring in the center as he mentally sent out a call. 

“Well, it’s nice to know you didn’t lose my ring” a dry voice sounded from behind him. Whirling around, he found himself staring into the bright blue eyes of his oldest friend.

“As if I would ever” Jenkins sputtered, forgetting for a moment why he had summoned the young king. 

“Galais, you were forever losing my saddle bags before a battle and you constantly misplaced your own gear! You were the most scatter brained squire I ever taught!” Arthur grinned at his friend. “How was I supposed to know you’d turn into a neat freak with control issues when you got older?”

“This from a man who misplaced an entire brigade after a night of carousing with Lancelot!” Jenkins growled, pouring water over the brazier to kill the flames. “We’ll discuss my “control issues” later Right now – we need to talk.”

“Christoph told me what you all found out about the Book” Arthur replied, his smiling disappearing. 

“The Librarians have found out more since he left” Jenkins quickly filled the Fae King in on the Candice’s family history and what they suspected of Cindy’s. “If the speculation is true then Candice is looking for that Book, probably for personal reasons, and Cindy is…”

“Her motivations and those of her friend are undetermined as yet” Arthur said thoughtfully. “None of which explains why you needed to see me.”

“The Librarians believe the door has been hidden by magic so that only a blood relation of the Countess can open it. It is my suspicion that the blocking spell used maybe powerful but not so much that you couldn’t get past it. We need you to do that before anything gets more complicated than it already is.”

Arthur raised one eyebrow at the statement. “I might could or maybe not. But it’s not my place to intervene…”

“It wasn’t your place to intervene when Ms. Noone nearly destroyed the Library and the Librarians but you were quick enough to flay me alive for not calling you to do just that.” Jenkins, arms crossed, glared across the room at his friend. “You can’t have it both ways, Arthur.”

“Of course I can” Arthur replied with a shrug. “It’s good to be King – means I get to play both sides against the middle. Galais, nothing you’ve said to me makes me believe that your Librarians can’t take care of this situation without my help. Would it be more convenient if I banish the masking spell so that they could find the hidden room? Yes – but Flynn has run into situations like this before and made it out in one piece without my help. Why should I think this will be any different?”

“A young woman’s very soul maybe at stake – not to mention the lives to the women who have disappeared since the start of this nightmare. Is it not your place to protect the innocent from such darkness?”

“Yes – and I will” Arthur replied quietly. “When the Librarian finds the book then and only then will I deal with what is happening in this reality. Until then, your group needs to step up their game. And you, old friend, need to have more faith in yourself and your team. They will do what needs to be done when it needs to be done.”

“I HAVE faith in the Librarians” Jenkins replied angrily. “But I also have memories of fights that need not have gone to Hell the way they did because of the lack of a strong sword arm and a cunning magic user on the field of battle.”

Arthur sighed. “My being there at the end would not have saved the original Arthur from Morgan and her whelp. I understand you are concerned your friends will be hurt by what they are facing – and it is a valid concern. It’s just not one I or my siblings can help with right now. Rest assured, Galahad, that when the time comes we, my consorts and I, will deal with the darkness being resurrected.” He reached into the still smoldering brazier and plucked the ring from the ashes, tossing it at the agitated Caretaker. “Until then, do what you can to be their support. Feed them the information they need. Suggest strategies from your vast experience as a soldier and an immortal. And for Heaven’s sake little brother, relax. Everything will turn out as it should in the end. Have faith.” The sound of fluttering wings and the smell of a wood-burning fire heralded the Firebird King’s exit, leaving his friend to stare at the still hot ring burning his fingers.

“Very easy for you to say have faith” Jenkins grumbled, tossing the ring back on his desk. “You’re not the one who will have to bury these good people if things go wrong.”

Stone looked up as Jenkins returned. The old man had been gone almost an hour – long enough to concern Cassandra. Stone had finally suggested she go find them something to nibble on so that they could continue their research with some energy. “Probably just as well I did” he thought to himself, seeing the stern set to the Caretaker’s face. “So – Arthur not willing to jump in and play?”

Jenkins looked across the table at the art historian / librarian with a frown. “No – he’s being very obstinate.”

“Or maybe he just figures this is one of those things we should be able to do ourselves without help from God’s Special Forces.” Stone shrugged, spreading out the books he had been reading on the table in front of him. “Arthur’s got enough of his own crap to worry with – doesn’t need to jump in on ours.”

Jenkins sighed, leaning heavily on the table. “My mind knows that but…”

“But your heart worries about what might happen if one of us gets caught up in that Book’s power to imprison souls. Yeah – I worry about that too. Which is why…” He stopped as the communication stones he had been monitoring started to buzz. “Baird’s calling in.” He laid the stones atop the books and tapped them gently. “Baird – anything new?”

“We’ve lost track of Cindy and Candice” Baird’s voice called out tensely. “Did you find out anything about them that would explain their disappearance?”

“Yeah – we did. But you’re not going to like it.” Stone gravely filled the Guardian in on the information that they knew and what they speculated might be happening. “From what I’ve read on Candice chances are she’s in this hunt just to prove a theory. I’ve got a call into her advisor to tell me what her thesis is on but I’m betting it’s something to do with how the Countess was wrongly accused of the murders because of being a woman with money and power in a man’s world. The hitch in all of this is Cindy. If she’s a descendant of one of the Countess’s servants who testified against her then why would she want the book found? Especially if it might have information to prove it was HER ancestor responsible for the crimes and not Elizabeth.”

“The servants were probably tortured to elicit their confessions” Jenkins commented, staring down at the communication stones thoughtfully. “It was common practice in that day. It maybe that the descendants of her servants are trying to resurrect the Countess in order to prove they were and are still loyal to the family.”

“None of which makes me feel any better about losing track of those two girls” Baird growled. “We need to find that door.”

“Chances are the girls have already found it” Jenkins replied, his mind racing. “If they have and Candice is, in fact, a blood relation of the Countess then she’s probably already opened the door.”

“Which means the spell of concealment is down” Flynn’s voice called out suddenly. “All we have to do is find passage…”

“Jones can find it now that the spell is down” Stone replied, concern in his voice. “Are you sure you don’t want me to join you? Things might get really hairy if things are finally coming to a head.”

“I think both Mr. Stone and I should join you” Jenkins said suddenly. “Miss Cassandra can remain here to monitor the situation.”

“No!” Cassandra’s voice called out in alarm. She came into the room with a tray of tea and sandwiches which she proceeded to toss on the table carelessly. “They might need me to do…”

“To do math” Jenkins said coldly. “And to be a tempting target to a group collecting young women whose blood they will use to raise a cold hearted and by now quite mad serial killer from her demonic cell. I think this is one time it would be best to be cautious rather than valiant.”

“I agree” Flynn called out. “And besides, we’ll need someone in the Library in case things go spectacularly wrong.”

“Which is why it should be Jenkins that stays” Cassandra protested. “Arthur and Rowan will not answer me and I don’t know how to reach their brother Khan. But Jenkins does.”

“I’ve already reached out to the King of Fae. He’s unwilling to invest in this adventure until there is no other choice. No, Miss Cassandra, this once you must take the rear as the rest of us go forward if only to ensure that someone who knows what is happening is still free.” Jenkins waved off the young woman’s continued protest. “Enough! There is no time. Mr. Stone, if you will follow me.” The older man set the backdoor spinning, opening it to display the dim entry way of the castle. “Quickly – before someone thinks to try to block us from entering!”

Stone dashed through the doorway, followed closely by Jenkins with the door slamming shut as he entered. Cassandra stared at the door in frustration, wondering if it would be worth the trouble to dial the entrance to the castle again and running through before they could stop her. “Serve them right – I could have been of help!”

“Not as much as you will be here” a voice replied. And from the shadows stepped the Fae Royal house, King Arthur, Queen Rowan, Abbot Khan and the old warlord Vlad. “Those also serve who do not but sit and wait. And that, little Miss Cassandra, is what we are going to do. Sit and wait – until the bitch is released from her cell. And we can rain down hell on her and her kind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the last chapter of The Librarians and the Archangel’s dilemma for the reason behind Jenkins saying Arthur was angry about Nicole Noone.


	16. The door to Hell is opened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't read the other Librarian / Arthur stories:  
> Seraphiel - eldest of the choir of angels known as Seraphim (and the Fae Royal's guardian/mentor)  
> Zaphiel - eldest of the choir of angels known as Thrones (and Arthur's advisor)

In the Library

Cassandra stared, enthralled, at the members of the Royal House of Fae. All were dressed in their battle garb, with Arthur and his father wearing black chainmail shirts, leather gauntlets, and greaves with chainmail coifs over their heads. Both Khan and Rowan wear dressed differently, choosing a variation on the Ninja vestment and chain armor with hooded cowl and boots for Khan and a lighter weight version of the gambeson for Rowan. Arthur and his father carried their Templar swords across their backs while Khan had a medieval arming sword strapped to his side and Rowan carrying a crossbow and quiver of bolts. Cassandra wondered, briefly, where the Queen’s sword was hiding – then decided not to ask. “I thought you weren’t going to join in this hunt” she asked Arthur, nervously watching the old Warlord drift over to the back door globe. She watched as he idly spun the globe, opening the back door a crack to its previous destination. 

“I wasn’t” the young king admitted. “But the more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion it wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up team waiting in the wings in case things went to literal hell. Which, knowing Flynn, is always a possibility.”

“It’s a good thing that man is as smart as he is” Vlad said, placing a chair beside the back door to settle into. “Otherwise this library would have been looking for his replacement years ago. Now all he has to work on is finding some common sense to go with that intellect.”

“I think his common sense is called Eve Baird” Rowan replied with a laugh. 

Khan grinned, hefting himself up onto the table and laying his sword beside him. “I am NEVER going to get use to carrying this pig-sticker” he complained plaintively. “Can’t I just stick with my staff and my Kukris?”

“No staff” Arthur replied with a sigh. “We’ll be doing close-in work so your Kukris might be acceptable but that staff will be as much a danger to us as the enemy. You tend to get a tad wild when you swing it.”

Khan flashed a toothy grin at his brother. “Keeps everyone out of my way, doesn’t it?”

“You hit Seraphiel in the shins with it during practice. I’m surprised he didn’t eviscerate you for knocking him over.” Vlad’s smiled thinly at his “boys”. “Zaphiel was laughing about it for a week afterwards.”

Khan grimaced. “Irish never said a word to me about it. I’m betting he’s waiting until I drop my guard – then he’s going to pound me into the ground.”

“Probably” Rowan agreed, hoping up on the table beside him. “If I were you – I wouldn’t turn my back on that old Seraphim.” She looked up at her brother / king, the smile fading from her face. “What’s wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur reached out and gently laid his hands on his sibling’s heads. “I am not at ease with the decision to take you both into this nightmare” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss first his younger brother’s forehead and then his sister’s. “You are my heart and my soul – without the two of you I am not complete. And the horror I would be exposing you to in this hunt…”

Khan reached and took his brother’s hand. “Listen Bro – I’m not a novice at horror stories. Not as young as I look either. One of my vacations from the monastery took me to the trenches of World War 1. Another took me into China during Nanking. Trust me when I say – I’ve seen the horrors men can visit on each other. That’s why I always go back to my monks and my dragons. And now – to you guys.”

Rowan smiled sadly, giving her elder brother’s hand a quick kiss. “You and I both know that like Khan I’ve seen terrible things in the world of men. This will be no different except for one thing – we all will be together, able to lean on each other’s light when the darkness grows too deep.”

Vlad rose from his chair and put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Listen to your Queen, my son. She speaks for us all.”

Cassandra swallowed, feeling like an intruder spying on an intensely personal moment. “It shouldn’t be long now” she said, trying to sound confident. “Once Flynn and Baird find that door then they can…” Her voice petered out as she realized that she had no clue what the Librarian would do once he had found the torture room.

“Then we will see if they have the sense to call for backup” Arthur growled. “Or if the Librarian and Galahad try to take on the forces of Hell on their own.”

 

In Čachtice castle

Jenkins and Stone quickly found their friends huddled in the dark hallway just outside of the Great Room. “Mr. Carson, any luck finding the door?”

Flynn shook his head. “Ezekiel is working on it.”

Baird stared back towards the room where the tourists were still milling restlessly about. “Tour group is getting restless. Not sure how long it will be before someone does something stupid. And on top of losing track of the girls, no one has seen our guide Dorothy or her van driver János for a while either.”

“How long have they been gone?” Jenkins asked, troubled.

“They disappeared around the time the two girls did” Baird replied. “We should have been paying more attention but…”

“Not your fault, Baird” Stone said quickly. “No reason to suspect either of those girls of being anything more than tourists like the others.”

“But I SHOULD have been suspicious of the guide and the driver. The coincidences were piling up too high – I should have realized they were leading to something.” Baird stared back down the darkened hallway with a frown. “And what is taking Jones so long? We shouldn’t have let him go off on his own.”

“There he is.” Flynn pointed briefly to the slender figure of the young thief quickly running up to them. “Find anything?

“Maybe” Jones replied. “I went down a side corridor just outside the kitchen area. Could have sworn I’d walked it before but now there’s a light coming from the far end, from under a tapestry that wasn’t there the last time I looked. I’m betting the open door is behind that rug.”

“Let’s go see what we can see” Flynn replied, an excited note to his voice.

“Let’s make a plan first before we get over run by wild magic and crazy ghosts” Baird countered. 

Flynn sighed. “Plans take time which we don’t have. We need to get in there, find the book and save the world – again!”

“Can we at least get closer to the door while we’re making our plans, just in case the bottom drops out like it ALWAYS does on these adventures?” Stone’s voice had an aggrieved tone, matching the look on his face.

Jenkins pushed the two younger librarians ahead of him as he started down the corridor. “Smashing idea, Mr. Stone. May I suggest lest talk and more running?” The group pivoted and started jogging to the back of the castle, passing the kitchen and a now unlocked down leading into the bowels of the structure.

At the end of yet another dark passage the Librarians could see a glimmer of light coming from under a heavy rug hanging on the wall. “Arthur did mention having to go around a tapestry to follow that servant” Stone whispered. 

Jenkins flattened against the stone wall, a feeling of dread coming over him. “Do you feel it?” he hissed. “The bone-chilling cold, the smell of decay, the feeling of despair? I fear, Mr. Carson, we may already be too late.”

Flynn darted past his guardian and swept back the curtain, with Stone and Baird right behind him. “Flynn – wait!” Baird whispered urgently. “We don’t know…”

“Oh but I think you do know” a sickly sweet voice called from inside the room. 

In a little antechamber of Hell

The Librarians crowded into the room which was lit only with dozens of candles. The stench of rot was almost suffocating. Along one wall Baird could see three young women, bound and gagged, kneeling in a line in front of what appeared to be an old fashioned claw-foot bathtub. Their eyes were glazed over with fear. On either end of the tub were János and Dorothy, both murmuring something quietly. Cindy stood between them, an old and ornate book in her hands. And in the tub…

“Candice!” Baird whispered in horror. “What have you done to her?”

“Nothing an aspirin and a stiff drink won’t fix” Cindy replied with a smirk. “But first our Lady must have her bath.” She glanced over her shoulder with a wicked smile. “She will be so pleased to see the modern world.”

“Will she be?” Flynn asked solemnly. “Will she be pleased to discover her family name is synonymous with murder and torture? This isn’t the same era as she came out of – people actually don’t approve of such activities anymore.”

“But of course they do!” Cindy replied with a laugh. “If you have enough money, enough power, then people will let you do anything you want. And she will have all of that and more when she come forth from her solitude.”

“She’s been locked away in that book for almost five hundred years!” Stone called out in protest. “She was crazy before – now she’s likely not to even be human!”

“Silence!” Cindy called out, waving her hand over the book. Stone crumpled as though he had been hit by a human hand. “Do not insult our Lady in this fashion!”

Stone rose quickly, shaking his head at the psychic blow. "Crap! That book is giving her the power to fight back. We need to get it away from her fast!" 

Dorothy smirked. "Our Lady will not allow you low born peasants to defile her home." 

“She is no Lady” Jenkins called out roughly. “She is, as Mr. Stone said, nothing more than a monster who must be put down.”

“By who?” Dorothy replied with a cackle. “You, old man? Or your pretty Librarian friends? Oh yes, we were warned you might appear and have made ready for you. The Book has protected itself for all these years from such as you – it will protect us now!”

A wall of flame suddenly shot up between the Librarians and the tub, blazing with an unholy heat. In the flames they could see horrible faces, some twisted with demonic fury and some with agonizing pain. “The remnants of her other victims” Flynn mumbled, stepping back with the rest to rest their backs against the far wall. “She’s using what little is left of them to defend herself against us”

“Now would be a good time for Arthur to show up” Stone muttered, shoving Jones behind him as the flames crept closer. 

In the Library

Vlad’s head jerked up as he sniffed the air expectantly. “There – do you smell it? That smell. The last place I knew it from was…”

“The Countess’s castle the day we found her secret” Arthur said, pulling his sword from its scabbard and turning to face the door. His normally glacial blue eyes had turned fire red and his blade was blazing with white hot flames. “Flynn’s done it. He’s found the prey. Now it’s time to hunt.”


	17. She rises

In the Library

Cassandra’s jaw dropped as Arthur and his father donned matching helms and face-plates, essentially concealing their identities. Behind them she could see Khan and Rowan also pulling up their hoods and scarves over the lower parts of their faces. “If the Countess is being resurrected, won’t she know it’s you no matter what you do to hide in your armor?” 

“No” Vlad replied quietly. “When she last saw us, Arthur was just a boy and I was still only – at least in her eyes – a mortal warlord. This is the armor of the Fae Royal house. Not something she would be expecting – and it will give us at least a moment to make our move.” He reached over and tapped the globe, setting the back door humming. It blew open into a long, dark hallway. 

Arthur motioned to his siblings. “Time to line up. Father takes point – Khan takes the rear. Once we’re in…”

“By the numbers” Khan growled. “You two first, then us.”

“And with any luck – Mr. Jones will be as quick and nimble a thief as he’s always claiming he is.” Vlad said shortly. 

“Screw nimble” Rowan snorted. “I’ll settle for him still being the luckiest thief in the world.”

The fighters chuckled then moved in unison through the door, slamming it shut behind them. Cassandra stood alone in the Library, praying whatever was about to happen didn’t take her friends and those innocent souls they were fighting for into the darkness.

 

In Čachtice castle torture chamber

Stone looked anxiously at Baird. “There must be a way to stop this!” He rubbed his head, hoping the headache he was experiencing wouldn't slow his reactions when his talent for a brawl would be needed. He moved himself and Jones away from the door, watching as Baird did the same to Flynn.

Flynn shook his head. “Cindy has opened the book and is using its imprisoned souls as guards to keep us back.” He winced as the flames morphed into the form of a young woman in medieval dress, her throat cut from ear to ear. Her hair hung lankly around her face and her eyes were dull. The specter faded away quickly, leaving behind only the stench of decay mixed with a slight wisp of lilac essence. “If Rowan were here, maybe she could talk to them, get them to see…”

“See what?” Baird replied, trying to find a way to line up a shot. She had fished her revolver out of her backpack before this ill-fated charge down the hall but now… it was less than useless. She couldn’t take the chance of trying to pick off Cindy while the woman hovered over the form of her former friend. And even if she could take down Cindy, the other two would still be in play. Dorothy and Janos, she suspected, were probably the bigger problem. Especially Dorothy. “They’ve been trapped in limbo for five hundred years. There may be nothing human left of them to appeal to.”

Jones peered through the fire, catching glimpses of where the two older servants and the book were located. “All I need is one good shot” he murmured. “Bet I can pull that book right out of her hands if I could just…” The flames blazed up in front of him, cutting off his line of sight and leaving him with the distinct impression that the spirits in the flames knew exactly what he was thinking of doing.

Flynn cleared his throat nosily. “You do know that the Báthory family estates and wealth were confiscated centuries ago by governments that no longer exist. If you do resurrect her – she’s going to start off her new life in less than ideal circumstances. This castle, for instance...”

Dorothy smiled coldly. “They who have aided us in this quest have already promised to put our lady back into her position of wealth and power.”

“Who has promised you this?” Flynn called out suspiciously.

“Someone who values magic and power” Janos growled. “Someone with knowledge enough to warn us of your coming. They have promised much wealth if you were to become the first of her new subjects – or her new victims.”

“And what else does she have to do for these generous allies of your in return?” Baird shouted, ignoring Janos threat. “Kill someone. Commit mass murder. Blanket innocent lands with wild, blood-thirsty magic?”

“You’ll soon see” Dorothy smirked. “She awakens! The Countess awakens!”

Baird swallowed hard as Candice’s eyes fluttered open and she stood unsteadily in the bathtub. The young Englishwoman looked around her with a cold smile. “Finally!” she hissed. “I am free!”

“But not for long” a rough voice sounded from the door.


	18. The cavalry arrives

Baird glanced back, eyes widening at the sight of two armored figures stepping into the door. Neither was identifiable as the faceplate of their helmets were down, allowing only their eyes to be visible. But she had a pretty good idea that those vivid blue eyes looking back at her were probably Arthur’s. Which meant that the taller figure beside him was probably his father Vlad. “Glad you guys could join us” she muttered, stepping back from flames keeping them back from the tub.

“Don’t be” the Vlad’s rough voice replied. “Our job here is not to intervene and save you. We are here for one reason and one reason only – to retrieve the book.”

“Do you really think…” Candice purred, her voice taking on a different accent then her normal Anglo one “that you can take what belongs to me, Prince Vlad?” She stretched languidly in the tub, flashing a sensuous smile at the people around her. “Do you think that even after all these years I would not recognize that husky voice? No amount of armor you wear can disguise those dulcet tones from me.”

The old warlord surveyed the crowded torture chamber then bowed slightly. “I see you still think yourself so memorable, Countess. But the memories your speech bring up are anything but delightful. They remind me of the decadent, hell-damned creature I was fortunate enough to see held accountable for her crimes. Pity your family didn’t have the intellect to see what you had set in place to escape your well-earned fate.” 

“As for the book” the blue-eyed figured beside Vlad said grimly. “I definitely think we can take what belongs to you.” He pulled off his own helmet and shook loose his dark blond hair, letting the creature in the bath get a good look at the Phoenix King - then held out his mail-covered hand and muttered words in a language few in the room understood. The book on its pedestal rocked violently for a moment then shot across the room, straight into his hand. 

“No – that is our lady’s property!” Dorothy shrieked, motioning to her two confederates. “Seize them!”

“Try it, bitch” a gravelly voice from the door called out. The burly form of the Khan, Abbot of the Dragon temple, rolled into view, leaping over the flame barrier and grabbing János up as the older man charged and slamming him unceremoniously into the nearest wall. A sickening crack and the streak of blood left as the man slid down into a heap left no doubt as to the man’s fate.

“Uncle János!” Cindy screeched, charging around the tub. “What have you done to him?” 

A second figure clad in ninja-style robes also leapt over the flames and tackled the young American girl before she could get far. A few swift, bloody strikes with what looked like a nightstick and the girl was down and dazed with her nose and mouth bleeding from the attack. The second figure rose and faced the others. “Why do girls always assume they can attack someone and not get their asses beaten in turn?” Rowan’s voice asked plaintively. 

“They believe that whole “a gentleman doesn’t hit a lady” crap” Stone called out, happy to see that the Fae royals had decided to intervene after all. 

“Silly bit” Rowan said with a shrug. “She’s lucky I got to her first. Neither my brothers nor my father subscribe to the concept that just because you’re a girl you can get away with being abusive.”

“Give me back my book!” Candice/Elizabeth screeched, trying to rise out of the slippery tub. 

“Not your book” Arthur’s voice called out. “Oh, the girl you have lured into becoming your meat-suit might have some Báthory blood, enough to open the door to this little piece of hell. She might even have enough of an echo of the old bloodline to house you in this world for a while. But I seriously doubt she has enough of a connection to you to become the permanent home for what passes for your soul, you aged harridan.” He stared down at the book in his hand with a frown. “Not even enough to control what is left of the power dripping from this weapon.”

“She had enough to open the doors, enough to unlock the gates and enough to set me FREE!” the girl said coldly. “Now my power is lose to control my weapon. No one can wield it by me.”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that” Arthur said quietly. “I know of a least one power capable of wielding this – the power of a Phoenix.” He looked down at the book in his hand, frowning at the cold feeling of power trying to crawl up his arm and the sound of voices screaming to be heard from the depths of of their prison.

“My king” the armored figure beside him murmured. Vlad pulled his helmet off, turning to face his son. “Remember what we are here to do.”

Arthur looked over at his sire, his blue eyes flashing from red to black in a second only to return to their normal sapphire blue. “Yes father” he murmured quietly. “I remember. I remember…”

Jenkins motioned to the two fighters now beside the tub. “Hurry! He said he was loath to allow the power of the book to be combined with the force of a Phoenix’s magic, that it would be devastating. The force resident in that tome is trying to worm its way past his natural defenses. We must get this book and its hell-bound power under wraps!”

“Pity we don’t have a stasis field we could throw it behind” Jones commented, watching Dorothy help Candice/Elizabeth out of the tub. “Or something from the Tardis to lock it away.”

Jenkins stared at the little thief with surprise. “Yes – a stasis field. Exactly! Mr. Jones, you are a genius!” He stepped back and whispered into the older knight’s ear. “Can it be done?” he asked urgently. 

“Yes” Vlad replied with a slight smile, waving Rowan over to him. “Keep Arthur close to you, my daughter. Whatever temptation the power of that book may offer, it can never offer him enough to make him harm you. You will be safe with him and can keep the others safe as well. I will be right back.” With that the figured stepped back into the hall and disappeared. 

“Arthur” Rowan’s soft voice echoed in her brother’s head, sliding past all the sullen whispers of power from the book he was holding. “Brother – look at me.”

Arthur looked down into his sister’s hazel eyes with a frown. “Sissy?”

“It’s alright” she whispered. “Father has gone to find a box for your newest acquisition. Until then – we still have some issues that must be resolved. Step back with Jenkins and let Khan and I, with help from the Librarians, clean up the mess these silly girls have created.”

The voices from the Book screamed denial, demanding he let them lose, let them merge with the power of his phoenix – the spirit animal singing obnoxiously off-key in his head. “Step back with Jenkins?” he asked cocking his head quizzically. “Why?”

“Because the Book is demanding something from you that you cannot, must not give” she replied, laying one gloved hand gently on his arm. “And I’m betting your phoenix is doing its best to try to keep you from hearing the words of the darkness you’re holding.”

“It’s singing to me” Arthur replied in an aggrieved tone. “And it’s off key”

“Of course it is” Jenkins said quietly. “I would be surprised if it could sing any better than you can – which would be not at all.”

“I can sing!” Arthur protested, his eyes brightening with amusement. “Managed that exorcism spell well enough when we ended up at war in Vega didn’t I?”

Rowan laughed. “Yes – you did manage that my darling. And you sound just lovely in the shower. Doesn't he, Jenkins?”

“I wouldn’t know” Jenkins said primly. “The only thing he managed when getting cleaned up when he was around me was walking out of pools of water stark naked and scaring the livestock.”

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, come on Galais! It wasn’t that bad!”

"Do I want to know how she knows what he sounds like in the shower?" Stone muttered to Jones. Baird frowned, hushing them both with a look. She hid a relieved smile, watching as Rowan and Jenkins distracted Arthur from the siren song of power coming from the book. “So – what do we do with these two?” she asked, nodding at the two women still standing. 

“I have an idea” Khan said quietly “but I’d like to run it past Christoph first.”

“Which is where I suspect Vlad has gone” Flynn interjected, poking at the flame wall still separating them from the captive women in the back of the room.

“Oh crud!” Rowan sighed in exasperation. “This stupid fire break – we really need to deal with it before the smoke drifts to the upper levels and starts a panic.”

“Got it” Khan said.

“It might be better if you didn’t use your dragon to dissipate the flames” Flynn said cautiously, stealing a glance at Arthur who was still chuckling over what Jenkins had said about him.

“Wasn’t planning on it” Khan replied with a shrug. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small fire extinguisher and started blasting the flames closest to the Librarian. “This should do the trick.”

“A fire extinguisher works on magical flames?” Stone growled, watching the fire die as quickly as it formed. 

“Works if you add a touch of a special suppression foam – and magic – to it.” Khan grinned wickedly at the younger librarian who laughed. 

“Knew there was something I liked about you” Stone chuckled.

Cindy moaned and stirred, trying to rise from the floor. Rowan glanced down and gave the prostate woman a swift kick to the head, knocking her completely out. “Really, you would think my breaking her nose would have convinced her to stay down.”

“You’re mean – you know that right?” Arthur chuckled, tucking the book nonchalantly under his arm. "Mean and vicious." 

“I’m practical” Rowan replied primly. “Just like my father and brother taught me to be. Now what shall we do with these two?”

“And what are we going to do with the women they have tied up in the corner?” Jones asked, quizzically. “The cops are going to have question.”

“Maybe not” Rowan mused. “I’m pretty sure I have a friend…”

“Of course you do” both Khan and Arthur replied with a grin.


	19. Now we wait

“Of course you do” both Khan and Arthur replied with a grin.

Across the room, Dorothy stared aghast at the prone bodies of her partner János and the girl Cindy. In the tub the mortal host of the Countess screamed angrily at the armored knight in a language none but Stone and Flynn could understand. “I will rip your soul from your body! Imprisoned in my book you will serve ME!”

“Bitch really likes the sound of her own voice, doesn’t she?” Khan muttered, rolling Cindy over with the toe of his boot. 

“She always did – at least from what father told me. That should have been the first sign she had a Plan B in place when she didn’t throw a fit at her trial.” Arthur sighed, tapping his foot. “Speaking of which – how long could it possibly take for father to find Master Christoph? It’s not like the old necromancer goes very far from either the castle or the monastery.”

“Calm down” Khan replied quietly. “If I’m right – they are having to fetch something from my place to bind this book. May take a while - it’s an old artifact. I haven’t had time to organize all the crap we located during the war so it maybe a little hard for them to put their hands on.”

Stone cautiously stepped over the ashes of the now dead fire barrier, avoiding the body of János still crumpled against the far wall. “So – what do we do with her?” he said, pointing towards the woman in the tub. “I’m not really up to putting her down like Ro did Cindy. Far as I can tell Candice is as much a victim here as these other women.” He grabbed the older woman’s arm and dragged her back from the tub, ignoring her whines and threats, then yanked Candice from the tub.

Baird looked around. “See anything you can tie her up with?”

Jenkins reached over and pulled down the tapestry from over the door and, using a blade borrowed from Rowan, ripped it into strips. “Here – this should work” he growled. “Wrap one around her filthy mouth. I, for one, am tired of hearing her voice.”

Stone smiled grimly as he bound both protesting women to a conveniently placed set of chairs. “Will do”. 

Jones, following closely behind Stone, darted over to the captive victims and started untying their bonds. “Might as well make you comfortable while we wait for back-up” he quipped. The young women leaned back against the wall, relieved.

"So - to go back to the original question" Baird said quietly. "What do we do with the people responsible for this clusterfuck?"

Khan shrugged. “I suspect the host’s soul was swapped for the Countess’s so maybe we just swap them back.” He glanced over at the young thief and, pulling some yellow powder out of his jacket, motioned Jones to stand aside. Blowing softly, he sent the concoction floating over the women, sending them into a dreamy sleep. “Better they sleep through the rest of this – easier to manipulate their memories of what happened to NOT include us.”

Baird nodded. “Agreed. Last thing we need in the local constabulary or the state police trying to make sense of this nightmare. DOSA would just LOVE to have something like this to hold over our heads.”

“I too agree” Jenkins said gravely. “Best to have few if any witnesses to spread stories of magic. As for Miss Candice, I suspect she had no intention of becoming the reincarnated Countess when she started this search – no matter what these others have to say. If we can free her soul from the book and return the Countess…” 

“I’d prefer we sent the Countess to her well-deserved cage in Hell” Baird grumbled. “If we don’t then someone maybe, at some point, doing this all over again.”

“I must agree with Eve” Rowan said quietly. “When we were preparing to join you, Father told me the story of an immortal gatekeeper who faced off to the spirit of Elizabeth Bathory many years ago. She tried to circumvent her imprisonment by using doppelganger of herself, who coincidently had a similar genetic makeup, as a vessel to re-enter the mortal world. The gatekeeper, a wanderer between realities, had met the Countess in her youth and recognized what she was trying to do. He thought he had banished her forever but in fact all he had done was send her back to her cage in the Book of Shadows. I fear that if we don’t send her to Hell, as Eva has said, we’ll be chasing her spirit down again and again for centuries.”

“Yeah – I can see that happening” Jones quipped, leaning one of the now snoring young captive against her friend. “Don’t know any prisoner with a functioning brain who wouldn’t keep trying to escape their cell. Sure know I would.” He looked up at the young king with a frown. “So – how come the book was making you so itchy? Not like you to let anything get to you.”

Arthur shrugged. “Unresolved guilt from that long ago time.”

Jenkins huffed in annoyance. “You were a boy, Arthur, not a grown man. You could not have helped those women you saw being tortured.”

Arthur sighed, uncomfortable with the emotions rising in him. “Maybe if I’d for once done as I was told and stayed with the horses, Father would have been able to find the source of the smell we were both being affected by. He could have saved them – if he hadn’t had to save me.”

“I don’t think so” Flynn replied gently. “You and your father were outnumbered by people who were loyal to the Countess. There would have been a limit to what he could have done short of blasting the entire compound to ash – and that would have left far too many questions unanswered. From what I can tell – your father moved between the realm of magic and realm of man fairly easily but destroying an entire castle full of servants and royals would have put a kink in that easy relationship. He wouldn’t have been able to move around so freely – and neither would you.” Flynn looked around the room with a sigh. “I think your father would have made the same choice in that situation whether you had stayed with the horses or not. And in the end – it didn’t matter much anyway. The Palatine of Hungary was already on his way to confront the Countess about the rumors of her misdeeds. His meeting the two of you on the road and hearing first-hand what you had seen made his job that much easier. So, in the end, you did save them. Just used another force of men to do it.”

Arthur smiled. “You are a good man, Flynn Carson. A bit annoying sometimes – but still a good man.”

The sound of wind through trees floated in front the corridor as Vlad and Master Christoph entered the room, carrying a crystal box with them. “Did we miss anything?” Vlad asked, quizzically.


	20. A crystal box - and a runaway evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating chapters - something got away from me and now need to put things back in the right order.

Arthur sighed in relief, bowing his head in acknowledgement of the presence of the old necromancer. “I was beginning to wonder where you two went off to.”

“The Temple is not the most organized place to keep an archive of old artifacts” Master Christoph said with a grimace. “Lucky for you, one of Kahn’s young monks has grown tired of never being able to find anything and took it upon himself to organize that dragon’s hoard of items your brother keeps in his cupboards.” He held out the crystal box, carefully opening the lid. “Just pop that horror into the box.”

“What happens when we do?” Flynn asked, eyeing the casket with glittering eyes. It shimmered with power, the little light from the torches reflecting eerily off the glass surface. The Librarian immediately began to run through his list of never found artifacts – something he and Jenkins had started after their run-in with DOSA – to try to place exactly what this item might have originally be made for and where.

The necromancer took notice of the gleam in the Librarian’s eyes with amusement. “It should muffle the items magic, keeping it from effecting anyone else. Essentially it’s a dampening field.” Christoph watched as Arthur carefully lowered the box into the box and gently shut the lid. “At least, that’s the theory. It’s so old that I can not be sure what is fact and what is fairy tale when it comes to this item. But it was the best we could do considering the circumstances.”

“What about Candice’s soul? It’s still trapped inside the book.” Baird eyed the insane Englishwoman and her companion with a frown. “Will putting the box inside that container cut the Countess off from her book? Or will it trap Candice inside along with what remains of the other victims forever?”

Christoph made a motion with his hand and the podium the book had been sitting on skidded along the floor towards him. He laid the crystal box gently on its surface and frowned. “That is one of the things we’re not quite sure of. Much depends on the power the Book of Shadows has been imbued with. And the power that is set against it.”

“Which will probably be me” Rowan said with a sigh. “Power of a witch against the power of a Fae noble. Should be an interesting fight.”

“No – it won’t be” Arthur rumbled. “Because you’re not going near that nightmare. I’ll be the one that rips it apart for its secrets. I’m the one that saw what it was used for – I need to be the one that ends its reign of horror.”

“Have I MENTIONED lately that being the Master of the Temple I’ve had nothing but time on my hands to learn how to deal with evil nick-knacks like this?” Khan called out sarcastically. 

“Not happening, baby brother” Arthur snarled. “That hag isn’t getting a chance to get her claws in either of you.”

“Indeed not” Vlad’s cultured voice floated over the group. “Because as the eldest of our line – and the one that was originally sent to deal with this creature – the task falls to me.”

“Father - no!” both Arthur and Rowan called out, aghast. 

Khan leaned against the stone wall, hands out in surrender. “Kind of figured this was where this headed. No point in arguing with him, bro. He’s as hard-headed as you are.”

Vlad smiled thinly, his pointed canine’s barely just visible over his lip. “I’ll take that as compliment, young dragon.”

“It was meant as one” Khan responded with a smile.

“Wait – when you say this task falls to you, what exactly do you have in mind?” Flynn looked from the still armored elder Fae and his now agitated children. Flynn and Baird had, when they first met Arthur, probed Jenkins for information on just how strong a magic user the Fae King was – to no avail. Jenkins either didn’t know or wasn’t telling. All he would say was that he had never seen his old friend defeated in battle. And if Vlad, despite his “condition”, was the eldest of their line and probably Arthur’s teacher – things could get messy.

“While I am not immune to the agony of an innocent soul trapped inside that cage through no fault of her own, Master Librarian, the fact is that we have to be aware of the big picture.” Vlad moved slightly to stand beside his son and daughter, his now red eyes fixed squarely on the crystal box. “The Countess must be sent to her proper reward – i.e. her cage in Hell, lest she try this again and again. We are fortunate to have found her possible victims still alive but if she is not stopped now others might not be so lucky. Under normal circumstances I would send a message to Lucifer and let him deal with the situation just he did with that singer Johnny Favorite in New Orleans. I suspect that her original abilities may have resulted from an encounter similar to that of the human Old Scratch finally pulled back down to Hell.”

“Was that the time uncle drowned someone in a vat of gumbo?” Khan asked. “Maze was telling me about it a while back. She thought the whole hunt was hilariously funny. Guy made a deal with the Devil but didn’t want to pay up so he cooked up some black magic hoodoo where he traded skins with some poor schmuck he lured in off the street. Sacrificed the guy, became him then walked away without any memory of his previous life. Uncle actually hired him to find his original identity and arranged for all the ones who helped him try to skip out on his deal to die in unique and pretty gruesome ways. Didn’t see the humor in it myself but figured I’d just go with the flow. Wasn’t in the mood to duck hell-forged blades flying at my face.”

“He… drowned someone in a vat of gumbo?” Baird asked, one eyebrow rising in disbelief. “Do I want to know more about that?”

“Probably not. Uncle has… evolved over the years” Khan said with a shrug. “But some things still set him off – like someone making a deal and then not planning on paying up. Which is why I think Uncle Vlad may be right about this being one of those “trying to skip out on payment” issues and it might have been a good idea to call Lucifer about this. Don’t know who is sitting his throne these days but…”

“Seraphiel says no one is but that Hell is still open for business.” Rowan rolled her shoulders back, wishing her Seraphim godfather / guard were at her side. She looked at her father expectantly. “So – what do you want us to do?”

“Stay out of the way” he said with a laugh. “Though I know THAT’s not going to happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference in previous chapter to a gate keeper having met Bathory is actually taken from an episode of the original "Fantasy Island" where the Countess tried to take over her genetic duplicate to live again.  
> The "drowning someone in a vat of gumbo" comes from Angel Heart - seems like something Maze would find amusing.


	21. All that study and no solution yet

Several hours later

“So – essentially we need to pry that stupid book open like a lock-box, snatch out Candice’s soul and replace it with the Countess, than weld the book shut so it can never be opened again. Right?” Stone’s voice had taken an aggrieved tone after hours of debate and study in the cramped torture chamber of Čachtice Castle.

“Or you could just release me and walk away as though nothing had happened” Candice’s accented voice called out from a corner.

It had been hours since they had first arrived, too late to stop the Countess from taking over the body of descendant of her family’s bloodline. The Countess – in her new form – had made a break from the group but had ended up wandering sullenly back when it became obvious that the old Warlord had enchanted the hallway, keeping her always looping back to the point she had started from. Now she was sitting beside the snoring forms of the women she and her minions had kidnapped, watching angrily as her Book of Shadows (still in its crystal container) was passed back and forth between the group discussing her demise.

“Shut up” Rowan and Baird called out simultaneously. 

“Really – I’d listen to the ladies” Vlad commented dryly. “They both are quite capable of cutting your tongue out if you continue to annoy them.”

Baird blinked then smiled. “Thank you – I think.”

Arthur grinned. “Trust me – that was his idea of a compliment. He likes strong women – just ask the elder goddesses he’s bedded.”

“After this case is closed” Stone said with a chuckle, “we all need to hear a few of those stories.”

“Feed him enough beer and you’ll get more information on what it takes to seduce a goddess that you’ll ever need.” Khan grinned at his foster father. “That’s what I did.”

“As I recall” Jenkins commented dryly “by the end of the night you were both drunk and comparing number of conquests. By the way – Master Vlad won that conversation.”

“Only cause he’s lived millennia longer than I have” Khan protested.

The sound of wind chimes echoed in the small room as yet another set of scrolls and books appeared on the floor in front of Flynn. “Looks like someone found more information for us” the Librarian called out, happily sorting through the material.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this here and not in the library or back at your place?” Jones asked in a bored tone. “Be a hell of a lot more comfortable – and we could order pizza!”

“I, for one, am not taking some nutcase humans and a sorceress into the Library without assurances they can’t mess up anything else there.” Baird called out in annoyance.

“And humans tend not to survive an entrance through the Fae Black gates” Master Christoph murmured, checking over notes he had made before returning to the castle with the elder Warlord.

“Jenkins survived” Stone pointed out calmly.

“Jenkins isn’t exactly mortal” Arthur replied, checking on the rapidly cooling form of János, the tour group’s driver and descendant of one of the Countess’s servants. 

“You know, I think we killed this one” he commented, looking back at his father with a frown.

“I killed him” Khan replied, giving the crumpled body a quick look. “Probably broke something when I slammed him into the wall.”

“Not surprising” Rowan said quietly. “Mortals tend to be rather fragile. They don’t take to being smashed into stone despite what you see in the movies. And he wasn’t exactly a spring chicken to begin with.”

“Well, crud” Khan grumbled. “Guess the Old Man is going to have my hide on this one.”

“Old Man?” Stone mouthed to Jenkins.

“God” Arthur replied with a shrug. “I doubt he’ll be too bothered. That bloody sod kidnapped and planned on killing those ladies on the floor over there. And was on his way to helping with the resurrection of the first female serial killer on record. I kind of think the Boss will allow us some leeway as the wretch had it coming.” He glanced down at Cindy’s unconscious form, nudging her with a toe. “At least she’s still with us – I guess that’s a good thing.”

Baird shrugged. “Probably. And not something we need to worry about now. Have any of you found something in those books and scrolls that will tell us how to reverse what was done to Candice? Something that doesn’t include Arthur’s father taking on the Countess in a death match?”

“Still not sure why we can’t get Lucifer to deal with her” Jones grumbled. “Seems like she really should be his problem.”

“Before we go down the path of summoning Satan, maybe we should see what we can accomplish ourselves.” Flynn laid a scroll to one side, peering up at the Book of Shadows in its case. “You know – the one place we haven’t looked for an answer it the Book itself.”

“Possibly because the Book’s power makes it an unlikely ally in eliminating its owner” Stone replied sarcastically.

Master Christoph, on the other hand, stared back at the Librarian in approval. “He has a point, though. This lot had to have found the spell to switch out the soul of the Countess with the soul of her descendant somewhere. We don’t need a reverse spell – we just need what was used to complete this transfer.”

“So we cast the same spell again only this time we change out Candice for the Countess” Baird replied, calculating the odds of success in her head. “But we have a few variables to contend with that they didn’t.”

“Like we don’t know exactly how the spell was cast” Flynn said thoughtfully. “What did they use – a potion or an incantation? Was Candice awake or unconscious when this was done? And what kind of barriers do we have to throw up to keep anything else from escaping from the book if we do cast that spell?” The Librarian looked quizzically over at the possessed woman. “Don’t suppose you want to help us out with this?”

“I’ll die first” she hissed. “And this wretched girl’s body will die as well.”

“We don’t need to question her” Arthur said softy. “Her servants actually cast the spell – they can tell us what we want to know.”

“Cindy’s out for the count” Stone said coldly. “And I’m betting Dorothy over there won’t be willing to help us either.” 

The older woman, tied tightly to her chair, glared in agreement with Stone’s statement. “Never! I am loyal to my mistress.”

“You might be” Baird said coolly. “But I’m betting your boyfriend over there won’t be.”

“He’s dead” Dorothy and Candice both scoffed. “There is nothing you can do to make him speak.”

Rowan and Christoph looked at each other and smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”


	22. Death arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - situation changed to make more sense.

With help from Flynn and Jenkins, Rowan and Christoph laid out János body, crossing his arms across his chest and opening his eyes. The old necromancer stared down at the corpse for a moment, a frown forming. “Here’s hoping his soul hasn’t been taken swiftly to Hell by the Reapers. It can be such a bother to try to contact damned souls once they reach their destination. Far too much interference from the demonic set.”

Rowan shrugged. “I have a friend…”she started, ignoring the groan from her brothers and Stone. “One of Azrael’s collectors. If this sod’s soul has taken the express elevator to his last reward, I’m pretty sure this particular angel of Death or one of his siblings can arrange for him to be returned long enough to tell us what we need to know.”

“Your sister knows the angel of Death?” Flynn asked, cautiously.

“She knows MANY angels of Death – both Azrael and her siblings from diverse cultures who are sent out to retrieve the souls of people who have died under various and sundry circumstances.” Arthur shrugged. “What can I say – my sister has a way of making friends in the most unlikely of circumstances.”

“Friends with the angel of Death?” Baird mused. “Well – to each his own.”

“She’s cool” Rowan purred, lighting a candle and laying it at the foot of the corpse. “Presents herself as something of a goth chick – says it makes interacting with the souls she takes home easier.”

“Somehow I have my doubts” Christoph replied with a smile. “But then again – it’s probably less frightening than the standard skeletal figure carrying a scythe. Though not as interesting as Baron Samedi and his top hat, cigar and rum”

"You like him because he is partial to your favorite drink" Khan chuckled.

"And he's much more fun" Christoph replied. "But, it is Azrael and her brothers we will be calling on today so best to not float to far afield with our petitions."

“Probably” Flynn agreed. “So – what happens next?”

“We summon the damned soul and see what he has to say. And if he gets pissy we make a call to Azrael and see what she can get out of him.”

“Or you can just call my favorite avatar of Death. Thanatos – he’s always up for pain” Vlad commented, a grim smile on his face.

“Thanatos?” Baird asked, worriedly.

“Greek god of Death” Flynn replied, frowning. “I didn’t realize he was a separate entity.” The Librarian shot a quick, worried look at the old warlord standing by the door, noting that his normally brown eyes had gone red.

“They all are” Vlad said quietly, leaning back against the cool stone wall. “He’s just a more active one than most. Azrael rolled him into her service to retrieve the dead created during war and send them to their appropriate final rest.”

“Okay – so can we NOT summon Death in any of its incarnations?” Jones glanced down at the still sleeping kidnap victims. “By the way – how long can you keep them unconscious before something goes snap in their brains?”

“They will stay asleep as long as I need them to” Rowan replied calmly. “Now – Master Christoph, shall we?”

The older Fae nodded grimly and laid his own lit candle beside the dead man’s head and started his summoning, muttering words in a language even Jake didn’t understand and creating fiery sigils over the body, symbols that burned for a moment then died away. For a moment it seemed that there would be no reply to his summoning. Then…

“Is it getting cold in here?” Jones asked, rubbing his arms briskly.

“Something’s happening” Baird agreed, watching as her breath formed a mist in front of her. 

Flynn watched intensely as a hazy form rose up from the body, taking the shape of the dead man and standing beside his corpse. “Fascinating” the Librarian whispered.

“Don’t get too wrapped up in it” Arthur warned softly. “It’s not something I would recommend anyone but an expert necromancer try. And despite all your book learning – you aren’t even close to that expertise.”

The soul of the dead man looked fearfully at his own corpse then at the mage who had summoned him. “Where am I? Is this Hell?”

“Not yet” Rowan replied dryly. “But that can be arranged.” She glanced back at her brother for moment, waiting for his acknowledgement. At the King’s node of encouragement she turned back to the shivering soul. ‘You help set up the room for the spell of transference – the enchantment that switched out your Mistress for the soul of her descendant. Walk me through how that was done.”

“No, János! Say nothing!” Dorothy screamed, trying vainly to rise from her seat.

Stone grabbed up a piece of torn cloth and stuffed it into the old woman’s mouth, wrapping it snuggly around her face. “Lady told you to be quiet” he growled. “I suggest you do like she asks. Unless you want to join your boy over there in the afterlife.”

János stared fearfully around. “The Countess will…”

“Whatever she will do will be nothing compared to what I will arrange to do to you” Rowan hissed. “Tell us what we want to know and maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with Azrael.”

“I dare not!” the old man moaned.

Candice smirked. "You see - my servants are loyal even unto death."

“Which makes them of no use to me at all” Rowan said quietly, bowing her head. Behind the soul a shadow moved silently down the wall, to stop right behind the trembling figure. “Thanatos – he’s all yours.”

A form rose up from the ground, taking the shape of the Grim Reaper, scythe clutched firmly in one hand. The skeletal figure grasped the trembling form in front of it and nodded. “Come – your cage awaits.”

"The Grim Reaper?" Baird whispered to Flynn. 'Not quite what I thought a Greek God of Death would look like."

Flynn shrugged. "Maybe, like the angels, death avatars can morph into any form they choose to. This one's fairly well known so probably easier for him to work with."

Stone shot a quick look back at the older woman, whimpering in her chair with eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sight of the Angel of Death. “Guess your mistress isn’t all that, is she?” he muttered.

Candice stared, enraptured, at the skeletal figure. “With such an ally I could…” She licked her lips seductively. "I could be such a good friend to you, creature of death. A loyal worshiper willing to feed you innumerable souls. And you, in your turn, could be a faithful companion to me."

The Angel of Death glanced back her with an eerie grin. “Like most humans you overestimate your worth to the universe. Death is inevitable – the one thing all men must face whether they are rich or poor. All must come to their meeting with the end of their years at some point. You have avoided your appointment with me long enough. It is time.”

“Problem is – while that soul is yours the body belongs to a young woman trapped in a soul box disguised as a Book of Shadows” Rowan called out. “I suspect her appointment with you isn’t for some time. But without a soul this body will wither and die prematurely. SO… we need what this old man’s spirit can tell us about how the switch was done. After that – he’s all yours.”

The Angel of Death nodded. “I can see the knowledge you are seeking and can rip it from his soul.”

“Works for me.” Rowan stepped back from her candle and motioned for Christoph to do the same.

“No! Please! Mercy!” János screamed as the skeletal figure pulled him closer, reaching with bony fingers into his skull.

“What mercy did you have for the women you kidnapped?” Jenkins asked coldly. “What mercy did your ancestor have for those women and girls the Countess tortured and murdered, actions that you were more than willing to undertake for her again.”

Thanatos removed his fingers from the screaming spirit’s head and held them out, dripping with ectoplasm, to Rowan. “There, little queen. There is what you seek. Now, if you will excuse me – this creature and I have an appointment in Hell.” He looked over at Candice, the creature’s mouth frozen in a rictus grin. “I will be back for you very soon, Countess. Your time is coming to a close in this life – and it will be my pleasure to put you in the cage you should have gone to all those centuries before.” He moved backwards into the shadows, dragging the still screaming soul with him till nothing was left but an echo of the man’s cries of pain.

“You have some interesting friends” Baird said with a shiver.

“You have no idea” Rowan agreed, looking down at the mound of ectoplasm in her hand. “But they do leave such nice gifts.”

“Even with his "gift", we still don’t have a solution for getting Candice’s soul out of the book!” Flynn said rapidly. “And we don’t know if the essences of any of the Countess’s previous victims might not still be in there.”

“If they are then we have a whole host of new issues” Christoph replied, somberly. “I don’t think…”

At that moment, things began to change. Candice/Elizabeth had managed to take advantage of the group's distraction of seeing the Angel of Death and used what little magic was available to her to loosen her bonds, slipping them silently from her wrists. As the the Librarians and their friends discussed options for ending the book's hold on its captive she, seeing her opportunity, jumped up suddenly and ran for the door, pushing her servant Dorothy, still in her chair, into Flynn and Baird as she ran. Her voice could be heard screaming “Help! Help! They are trying to kill me!” as she ran down the hall.

Jones sighed. “Should have seen that coming” he muttered, moving one of the sleeping victims to one side so that he could sit more comfortably against the wall.

Jake, on the other hand, jumped up as the others fell. “Oh hell no!” Stone growled, diving for the fleeing figure – and just missing. “Damn it! How did she get loose? Come on Jones – we need to get after her!”

“We have to stop her!” Baird said, starting to run for the door. “If she gets out to where the other tourists are…”

“She won’t” Vlad replied coolly, not moving from his position. “Christoph and I have made sure of that. The corridor leads only to the Great Empty – the space between worlds. She can run until her lungs burst but she will NEVER find a way out.”

“Without the power of her Book of Shadows she won’t be able to open a door out to anywhere.” Christoph tapped the box gently, a thin smile on his face. “And she may find, like others who have become lost in the Between, it is not as empty as the stories make it out to be. There are things in that haze that are always watching – and always hungry.”

“Which is even more of a reason to find her” Flynn replied calmly. “Countess Bathory is currently in someone else’s body. If that body dies – what happens to the innocent woman whose form she hijacked?”

“Good point” Vlad conceded. “But until we know how to switch them out – the Great Empty is as good a place to keep her trapped as any.”

“You’re as mean as your daughter” Arthur murmured.

“Nonsense – I’m just practical.” Vlad replied with a smile, to the universal sigh of the group.


	23. Next step - anyone have a phone?

“So…how does this help us?” Flynn asked, squinting at the damp, glittering puddle in Rowan’s palm. The ectoplasma shimmered in the candlelight, shivering as though afraid at the sound of voices around it. Flynn wondered, briefly, if any of the old man's personality was still attached to the part of his soul the Angel of Death had ripped out - then thought better of worrying about it. 

“The knowledge of the ritual is encased in that remnant of the dead creature’s soul. All we need do is access the information and recreate the event in reverse.” Master Christoph eyed the remnants of a soul sitting wetly in his Queen’s hand for a moment. “Though blessed if I know how we’re going to do that. I truly expected him to just get the answers from the man – not rip a part of his essence out and hand it to us.”

Rowan sighed. “Yeah – same here. Thanatos can be quite simplistic in his approaches to the dead. He probably assumed one of us would know what to do with this messy pile of ick.” She frowned for a moment then shrugged. "Could have been worse. He once ripped a serial killer's heart out of his chest and handed it to me as a Valentine's Day gift."

"We really need to have a talk about your choice in friends" Vlad muttered.

“Great – so now what?” Jones called out, stretching his legs as he made himself comfortable. 

“Remember when Arthur turned Ezekiel’s laptop into an artifact so we could see what Rowan was dreaming about?” Flynn said, his voice neutral, his eyes avoiding the sight of the rapidly cooling lump of flesh that had only recently been the tour bus driver... “Can something like that be done with the memories of this dead man?” 

“Maybe – if any of us had such a device” Vlad drawled, giving the Countesses remaining servant an interested look. “But I, for one, do not normally carry a tablet or a laptop into battle with me.”

Stone snorted, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah – I can imagine that’s not standard equipment for medieval armor.”

“What about these birds?” Jones said, staring appraisingly at the sleeping women he was seated beside. “They were kidnapped doing touristy things. Maybe one of them had a smart phone or a tablet…?”

“Great – so where would their luggage have ended up when they were grabbed?” Baird asked, not really expecting an answer.

“The first couple of women – their luggage probably got thrown in the gutter or left in an alley somewhere. That way there would be some confusion as to whether they had left of their own accord or been taken away by someone. So no joy there.” Jones stared off into space for a moment then snapped his fingers. “Wait – one of them was taken from this tour group. So her stuff must still be on the bus or back at the inn where we met up with the group! One of us can just go back to the inn and check!”

“Or you could just turn around since it seems her baggage was thrown in the corner of the room” Arthur replied dryly, pointing to a knapsack peeking out from under sacks of plaster.

“Or that” Jones agreed, leaping up to pull the bag out. He rummaged quickly through its contents before holding up an expensive looking IPhone triumphantly. “Got it!”

“Lovely” Rowan murmured. “So – now what?”

“Now, I make the world of technology and the world of the dead talk to one another – at least for a moment.” Master Christoph gently removed the ectoplasm from his Queen’s hand and motioned Jones to hand the phone to Khan, watching with amusement as Rowan hastily wiped her damp hand on Arthur's armor. “In the meantime – I suggest one of you go find the Countess and her temporary meat suit. We’ll need her here for the transference.”

“If you can make it work” Baird muttered. "What if you can't? Then what do we do?"

“I can make it work” Christoph replied solemnly. “We have no other options. It won't be easy, though. Magic is never as simple as Hollywood makes it seem. And even with the best laid plans – something can always go wrong.”

“So, let’s go hunting” Arthur said calmly, motioning his father to precede him. “Sissy – you stay here and keep an eye on things. Father and I will hunt the Countess down in the Between…”

“She’s not going anywhere soon” Rowan said quietly. “The Between is an infinite space just like the Library. Without the power of her Book of Shadows she'll never find her way out - not without a guide. Not something she's likely to find in the shadows between time and space. And frankly - I’d prefer we went into this with a battle plan in place – not just separate our forces because we can.”

“Told you not to let her watch that last episode of Game of Thrones” Khan murmured. “As if she wasn’t paranoid about letting us out of her sight before…”

“Can’t say as I blame her” Stone replied, giving Rowan a reassuring grin. “Saw it too. I may not be an expert in battle techniques but come on! You’ve got to admit – their planning for an all-out battle against the walking dead sucked rocks.”

“It’s a fantasy series” Jones protested. “It’s supposed to look cool – not historically accurate.”

Vlad closed his eyes and started to count backwards from twenty in Romanian then stopped. “Children…” he growled, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. “Now is not the time to debate movie vs. reality battle scenes.”

“Then don’t” Baird agreed. “Arthur – you, your father and Jenkins can track down the Countess and bring her back. Khan and Rowan can remain here and help Master Christoph figure out how to make this IPhone thing work with the memories of our dead tour bus driver.”

“A good plan” Christoph agreed. “Technology is more Khan’s expertise than mine whereas my Queen and I both are good with the dead.”

“I think it might be a good idea to send Flynn back to the Library and see if he and Cassandra can find anything to help with this little experiment.” Khan said slowly. 

“Why?” Baird asked, suspiciously.

“Because I don’t trust him not to try to open the Book of Shadows and try to take a peek at what all is in it.” Khan shrugged, shuffling over to stare over the old necromancer’s shoulder as he poked at the phone. “Arthur had a problem with it whispering in his ear and he’s the strongest Fae warrior / magic user I know. Your Mr. Carson’s curiosity will turning him into toast in seconds and us along with him. And besides - we’re going to need someone to break the security code on this phone before we meld it with the ecto – and I, for one, don’t have the tech to that here.”

“So we send Jones and the phone back to the Library” Flynn protested. “Breaking security codes is his specialty.”

“Notice he didn’t mention my not trusting him with the book?” Khan muttered.


	24. Hurry up and wait

Baird sighed in frustration. “Look – Flynn may have too much curiosity but he’s not foolish enough to try to open a Book that is doubling as a soul prison.”

Khan shrugged. “Your funeral.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t put it that way” Arthur replied quietly. “Maybe I should stay and keep the peace.”

Rowan shoved her older brother in the general direction of their father. “Keeping the peace is my problem – yours is finding the Countess. Go!”

Vlad rolled his eyes and motioned to the Library’s caretaker. “Come along, Master Knight. As my daughter says – the Between is infinite and we have no time to waste.” He stepped out into the hall, followed by a somber Jenkins and lastly by Arthur – who glanced back worriedly at his sister before disappearing into the mist.

“Your turn, Mr. Jones. Off you pop back to the Library and find a way to break into the phone so we can make use of it. It's no use to us if we can't get past the login screen.” Rowan motioned to the door, closing the entrance into the Between and opening a way back to the library. 

Jones sighed and rolled to his feet, sauntering across the room to the door. “Okay. Shouldn’t take me long. Anyone for pizza while I’m there?”

“You won’t be there long enough to order pizza” Baird replied, shoving the Aussie through the entrance. “At least I hope he won't be.”

“I have faith in your little thief” Khan called out. “If anyone can break that code – it will be Ezekiel Jones.”

Cindy, still sprawled on the floor in front of the old tub, bag to moan softly as she regained consciousness. “My HEAD!”

“Be thankful it’s still attached to your shoulders” Baird snarled, dragging her up to her feet. “Shove her over into the corner where she can’t get in the way. And someone make sure that old woman is properly tied down. Last thing we need is her doing a runner on us like her buddy did.”

Stone grabbed the young American by arm and half carried – half dragged her to the corner beside the sleeping kidnapping victims. “We can put her here – that way we can keep an eye on all of them at once. And keep her away from Dorothy.” He used the remnants of the ripped curtain he had first used to try to restrain the women - using it now to tie the American's hands behind her back. After that he walked over to the old woman still seated in her chair, checking to make sure her bonds had not come loose the way the Countess's had. He tightened the binding slightly, and nodded to Baird. "We're good."

Baird nodded in agreement then glanced over a Flynn – who was eyeing the crystal box containing the Book of Shadows with interest. “Flynn…”she warned.

“I’m just curious about the artifact they put the book in” Flynn protested. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it and I’m almost sure there isn’t anything in our list of items in the Library’s collection that mentions a box that size that dampens magic.”

“It doesn’t dampen magic” Christoph replied. “It contains incorporeal spirits, trapping them inside the box so that their power cannot be used against others. The souls trapped in that box are its current power source and are a major problem. They have become twisted, warped by their pain and the long silence of their incarceration. Look up any study on human prisoners subjected to long time incarceration in solitary confinement and you'll have a basic idea of what has happened to these souls. They could, given a chance, overwhelm any living mind they were able to access and use it to do their mistress bidding.”

“Why would they be willing to do anything for the Countess – especially considering what was done to them to put them into that hellish box?” Baird glared at the crystal box containing the book, contemplating the satisfaction she would feel when it was destroyed.

“They don’t have much choice” Rowan replied. “Any more than occupants of a Super Max prison have a choice. They either do what they were told to do when they were confined – or suffer the consequences. And in what remains of their minds - the consequences are so much worse than fighting the system.”

“What could be worse than being imprisoned in a book that is literally sucking the life from your soul for hundreds of years?” Stone asked somberly.

“Having your soul ripped to shreds again and again for the amusement of the psycho bitch who imprisoned you in the first place” Khan replied, glaring at the cube. “At least – that’s what we think happened in other soul prisons. The "warden" of the prison - or the top dog spirit imprisoned within the object - used the others for entertainment, using the most horror inducing methods possible. And considering the Countess reputation…”

“It’s a good bet she would have done something similar to keep control” Baird conceded.

Flynn moved a step away from the box, suddenly not curious about it or its contents. “Rowan – you mentioned a story someone told you about an immortal gatekeeper who faced off to the spirit of Elizabeth Bathory…”

“Yes, Thanatos told me about that one” Rowan said, leaning against the cold stones walls for a moment. 

Khan glanced up and, using a fiery glyph, created a set of camp stools from the broken crates and other detritus strewn around the room. “Here, try this. We might as well make ourselves comfortable while we wait.”

Rowan smiled at her middle brother in relief. “Thanks, luv. It was a long day before we even started on this hunt and it’s only gotten worse.”

Flynn dropped into one of the stools with Baird beside him. “So… about this gatekeeper…”

“Personally” Stone drawled. “I’d rather hear the story about how Lucifer drowned someone in a vat of gumbo.”

“That’s not a story he much likes us to tell on him” Rowan replied with a grin. “And he always blames the guy he was chasing for all the extraneous casualties.”

“I remember the story about the gatekeeper” Christoph called out, taking a stool for himself. “He was, I think, either a Fallen angel or a Nephilim who managed NOT to be sentenced to death – or at least that’s how the story seemed to go when it was told to me.”

Khan lowered himself to the floor beside Christoph, pulling his beads from his pocket and running them through his fingers. “Yeah – I remember hearing the same story but I don’t remember from where.”

Rowan shrugged. “I’m not for sure about the details either. No one really does - including whether the gatekeeper was angelic or Fae. Thanatos might know - but he wasn't in the mood to tell. In the version I heard this gatekeeper met Elizabeth Bathory when they were both young. Or, at least, when he was presenting himself as young. Immortals go through phases of pretending to age so that they can fit into the mortal world.”

“So, this immortal meets Countess Bathory and then…” Baird replied, encouragingly.

“I didn’t get the impression she was Countess when they met. Or maybe it was after her husband had gone off to one of the innumerable wars fought during that time and in that place. Either way – he fell in love with her.”

Khan shuddered. “Can’t picture that.”

“From what Thanatos told me – the immortal believed her to still be innocent of the darkness that she would one day embrace. Or at least she presented herself as innocent. Personally - I think she was lying through her teeth. But, for whatever reason, their love was doomed. The gatekeeper probably finally wised up to the fact that she was showing an interest in some of the more unsavory magical arts. He moved on and she stayed and became a devotee of the Dark Arts and … well, you know the rest of the story.” Rowan glanced over at the new awake Cindy. “Lovely family you’ve chosen to serve. Maybe you’ll get lucky and you can have adjoining cells in Hell.”

“My Mistress will destroy you all!” Cindy screamed, her voice quivering with equal parts outrage and fear.

“Not if I kill her first” Rowan replied sweetly.

“Jones better hurry up with that phone.” Stone glanced around the room worriedly. 

Baird and Flynn silently agreed.

In the Library

Cassandra’s head jerked up as a form came flying through the now open back door. “Ezekiel!” she squealed, leaping up to hug her fellow Librarian. “Where is everyone?”

“Back in the Countess Castle” Jones replied, shrugging out of her embrace. “Things have gone slightly pear-shaped as Baird would say. We need to crack the security on this phone and fast. Don’t suppose you found anything else about soul prisons – or thought to order pizza?”

“No and no” Cassandra replied, annoyed. “Why do we need to crack someone’s IPhone?”

“Long story” Jones said, headed for Jenkins work room. “All you need to know for now is we need to get this phone open right now so here’s hoping its owner didn’t get too fancy with their passwords.” 

The two youngest Librarians disappeared quickly down the corridor, the back door slamming shut as they ran. From behind the now closed door a wailing sound echoed into the open space beyond.

In the Between

Vlad and Arthur walked carefully through the mists of the Great Empty, peering into the darkness beyond the barely lighted path at their feet. Jenkins walked behind Arthur, careful not to get too close or too far away. “Can either of you see anything?” he asked, quietly, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“I can” Vlad responded, stopping and pointing off towards the left. “Someone has left the path here. She’s just ahead, flailing around in the darkness. And we are not the only ones who have sensed her. The guardians of the Great Empty know she is here as well.”

“That’s not good” Arthur whispered.

“You never told me there were guardians to this place” Jenkins responded, glaring at Arthur.

“You didn’t need to know. Neither you nor your Librarians were EVER likely to make a journey through the Between without one of us to act as your guides.” Arthur looked up at his father in frustration. “And its guardians tend to be somewhat inconsistent when it comes to protecting their territory from people in the mist. Sometimes they do - most times they just chase them around till they leave. Khan swears they just like hearing people scream - which doesn't bode well for the Countess in her little meat suit. Since they tend to avoid the Fae, I'm not sure where their minds are right now. Father - your opinion? What do we do?”

“You and Galais stay here and I bring her back to the path” the old Warlord replied, shrugging his armor back into place on his shoulders. 

‘Father…” Arthur growled.

“My eyes can see what even your Phoenix cannot. And I’m well aware of what that bloody little bitch inhabiting that meat suit is capable of. Besides, the guardians of the Between are more likely to back off to me than you.”

“Since WHEN?” Arthur protested.

Vlad smiled, his pointed canines glistening in the dim light. “Since they know I’m far more blood thirsty than you could ever be – and I’m not as picky about whose blood I spill. Now stay here and be prepared to light up the path when I call out.” The old man’s tall, lanky form disappeared swiftly into the darkness, leaving his son and the Librarian’s caretaker squinting into the darkness after him.


	25. Working out the kinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is mention of Archangel Michael - which comes from a previous story in this grouping called "The Librarians and the Archangel's dilemma"

In the castle

Baird shifted her feet, hoping this part of the mission wouldn’t take as long as she suspected it would. Rowan and Master Christoph – with help from Khan – huddled over the iPhone Jones had returned with, muttering to each other as they moved the lump of soul the Reaper had given Rowan around on its surface while accessing its information. They had been attempting to modify the phone to access the late driver’s memories for a good half hour with little success as far as Baird could see. Khan poked at the still drippy ectoplasma with a frown, eyes locked on the screen. “He doesn’t look happy” Baird whispered to Flynn.

“Which is strange because he’s probably the happiest of the bunch” Flynn mused. “Something must be really off with that spell.”

“Nah” Jones said with a shrug. He took a seat beside the still sleeping captives, nudging one who had started to snore. “He’s probably just annoyed he didn’t get to go with Arthur on the hunt.”

“You’re both wrong” Khan called out testily. “I’m fine not going on a hunt in the Great Empty – place gives me the creeps on a good day. And there isn’t much wrong with this spell except…”

"Except it's not as simple working with a fragment of someone's soul as it would have been if he'd just chained old man’s soul to a chair and tortured it till it revealed its secrets.” Christoph wiped his damp hands on a piece of cloth with a grimace. “It would have been much less messy – at least for us.”

“Probably so. Except even with that assistance as opposed to what he gave us, we’re still finding that there are limits to what we can do if we are able to pull this off” Rowan sighed, handing the phone off to Christoph. “If what we are seeing is correct, we can recreate the events where the souls were transferred but…”

“But?” Flynn said quizzically.

“But the Countess maybe so dug into her new meat suit it will take longer and be a hell of a lot more painful to pull her out then it was to replace Candice.” Khan frowned, staring at the door his brother had disappeared through. “It’s one of those big picture moments – do we take it slow and easy to make sure the English girl – and only her – gets pulled out of the soul prison and put back into her body or…”

“Or do we do what is expedient and just yank both of them out of their respective situations and slam them back into where they belong” Rowan finished, nails tapping on her crossed arms as she thought the scenario through. “One way – we get this over and done with fast, giving us time to deal with the book and whoever is behind this mad little play or do we take our time and risk allowing the afore-mentioned “others” to realize the plan didn’t go as expected and have them move in on us while we are distracted?”

“So you do think someone else is behind all of this?” Stone growled, glaring across at Cindy and Dorothy. “Any bets it’s the Serpent Brotherhood?”

“There are any number of groups like the Brotherhood who could have an interest in the power of the grimoire.” Flynn glanced back at the crystal box on its stand, the cracked leather bindings of the old Book of Shadows leaving smudges on its pristine interior.

“We haven’t seen DuLac in ages…”

“Probably doesn’t want to go mano a mano with his old buddy Arthur” Jones laughed. “He’s kind of delicate these days – and Arthur is anything but!” Jones pulled his lucky coin from his pocket and began to pass it between his fingers, keeping them limber in case anything interesting turned up he would need to snatch.

Rowan flashed the young thief a small smile. “I suspect Arthur wouldn’t bother much with him. He’s heard enough about what he tried to do to you all from Jenkins and Gretchen. I mean, really? Trying to steal Santa’s power. Talk about buzz kill. Arthur would probably just strip him of his magic and toss his scrawny ass out the nearest portal into the Great Empty.”

"Now there's a good use for that Apocalypse world Archangel Michael's so attached to" Khan laughed. "Drop Lancelot into Vega and see what happens to him without his youth or his magic tricks."

“Arthur talks to Mrs. Clause?” Baird blinked in surprise, ignoring Khan's mention of the Archangel they had dealt with over a year previously. She hadn’t thought about it but Mrs. Clause had not seemed the sort to be on friendly terms with the young King. Nick, however, was another story. She could imagine the annoying avatar of Good Will having long conversations with the Phoenix over a bottle of beer.

“No, actually I do. She’s one of my friends.” Rowan shrugged nonchalantly. “met her ages ago when father was trying to figure out what to do for a girl child on Christmas and accidently ended up summoning her instead of Santa. We’ve all been chummy ever since. Gretchen talks to me and I talk to Arthur.”

“Wonder why she didn’t call you when he went missing a while back” Stone asked with a frown.

“I may have been out of communication range” Rowan replied thoughtfully. “We sometimes get so bogged down with other hunts and with keeping our Kingdom running that we forget to check for messages. I’m usually better at it then Arthur is – he can go weeks without thinking to check his email or phonemail. Whereas I…”

“Talk to everyone including me, your father and just about anyone you think needs to hear a particular story” Khan teased. “Hell, I’ve heard you and Madame Laveau chatter on for hours, making lists of who needs to know what so that they can get a job done for you.”

Rowan laughed. “Arthur has his way of organizing and I have mine. And mine doesn’t include re-organizing the armory every time he gets a new toy.”

Baird joined in the laughter. “Flynn’s idea of organization all rests inside his own mind. He claims he can find anything – then ends up going to Jenkins when he really can’t.”

Flynn frowned at the snickering group. “Can we please get back to what we’re going to do if you manage to get these two spirits restored to their original spaces?”

Khan shrugged. “I’m for making it quick then moving on to clean up this mess before someone tries to pin something on us – like the kidnapping of those women over there.” He squinted at the prisoners for a moment then looked back at his sister. “Didn’t you tell me there were five women missing? We only have three here.”

Rowan looked back as well. “Hmmm… well, that’s not good, is it? We’re missing two women. But which two?”

Stone and Jones moved to get a better look at the women’s faces. “These two” Stone said quietly, “match what we have on the two women missing from the current tour. The third girl went missing from the tour of Dracula’s castle.”

Christoph took a quick peek into the ornate tub the Countess had risen from. “No blood – so if the other two were used as sacrifices it wasn’t here.”

“IF they were used” Khan mused. “What if they weren’t?” He glanced back at Cindy who had finally stopped whining about her head aching. “Bet she could tell us.”

“I won’t speak – you’ll have to kill me!” Cindy screamed defiantly, curling up into as small a target as she could. 

“Works for me” Khan rumbled, pulling a large hunting knife from behind his back. He tossed the blade from one hand to the other as he examined the girl in front of him. “What do you say, sis? I’ll gut her and you talk to her ghost.”

“Or I can just get Thanatos to come retrieve her soul like he did this sod” his sister replied, giving the stiffened body of the driver Janos a swift kick. “That seemed to work well. And he has no issue with making the body dead to get to the soul if it isn’t already.”

“Yeah, that last time your friendly neighborhood avatar of Death visited, it went swimmingly” Baird said with a sigh. “I, for one, am not keen on having to explain not one but two dead bodies to the local authorities.”

Rowan waved her concerns off with a sniff. “Don’t worry – I have a friend…”

“Just how many bloody friends DO you have?” Stone asked in annoyance.

“Probably enough she could start and end World War III without ever leaving the comfort of her home” Christoph commented dryly. “And enough to clean it all up to where no one even knows she’s done it.”

Suddenly, a roaring sound filled the room and the door leading back out to the Between exploded open, showering the occupants with aged splinters. A body flew past Baird and Flynn, rolling to stop beside the tub with a groan. The Countess, still in the body of Candice, looked up from the floor in terror. “Keep him away! He’s insane! You must save me!”

Flynn, shaking the dust from his eyes looked up as Arthur strode in, flames following him like errant puppies. Jenkins staggered in behind him, his arm wrapped around the armored form of the old Warlord. “What happened?”

“Not your problem” Arthur growled, his ice blue eyes now raging with hell-fire. “Now, the bitch is my problem. It’s time to end the façade – and her.”


	26. Chaos

Chaos erupted as the Librarians jumped back away from the flames trailing their friend. Cindy and Dorothy cowered back as the angry warrior grabbed their mistress and tossed her into the porcelain tub like she was no more than trash. Stone and Jones froze in place watching as the destroyed door magically repaired itself, dust settling in waves around them like fireflies. Flynn backed up a step, putting himself between Arthur and the crystal box with Baird in front of him, her eyes fixed on the King’s sword in Arthur’s hand. 

“FATHER!” Rowan cried out, racing to her parent’s side, the phone dropping from her hand. Khan, a stream of profanity flowing from his lips, pulled the elder warlord from Jenkins grasp and sat him on the floor, his back braced against the wall. 

Vlad grimaced as he settled into his seat. “Do stop fussing” he complained, patting his daughter’s hand. “It’s not as bad as your brother is making it out to be. It’s just one little nail.” The old man winced as he settled into place then sighed as he pried his daughter’s fingers from his arm. “All this fuss for something so small.”

“An iron nail?” Flynn said in a worried tone. “Aren’t Fae allergic to iron?”

“I wouldn’t know – I’ve never been allergic to anything in my life.” Vlad sighed as Khan gently lifted his chain hauberk and examined the wound carefully. “Many of the Fae are injured by iron but my ancient bloodline – and my current condition - seems to have given me immunity. I’m certainly not in the mood to start now. You would think, that after millennium of battles I would know if not to let myself get stuck with any metal –iron or otherwise – wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, you’re kind of a unique case, Uncle. Most of the old bloods would have folded long before this. But not you – too stubborn to die. Have to admit – this doesn’t look all that bad” Khan mused. “Metal is still in the wound – which in this case is probably a good thing. It’s acting like a plug - keeping you from bleeding more than you normally might. And your condition precludes you coming down with tetanus so that’s a plus. If we were home…”

“But we aren’t” Rowan replied darkly. “So what do we do for him here?”

“What you will do, little girl” Vlad replied, his voice taking on that “parental” tone it often had with his two children “is to make sure your brother doesn’t kill that fool of a girl’s human form before we can pull the Countess out of her. I WILL NOT be responsible for your sibling committing murder on my behalf.”

“I’m not going to murder her” Arthur growled, stalking the terrified woman in the tub in front of him. “I’m just going to rip her hands off for daring to lay them on you.” He shifted his sword from hand to hand as he calculated his strike.

“No you will NOT!” Vlad replied, angrily. “How many times, boy, have we been on a battlefield where one or the other of us has been injured and the other had to fight on? If you had given in to your anger then as you are doing now there would be a sea of blood and tortured souls attached to your name…”

“Father” Arthur said, his voice cold. "I am King - her fate is my decision to make."

"You maybe King but you are still my son and not to big to be put over my knee..."

“Will the TWO of you shut up!” Khan called out, annoyed. “Uncle isn’t hurt that bad and he’ll be fine so long as we don’t try to remove that metal shard from his wound until we’re in the Healer’s tents where we can control the outcome. The best thing we can do for him RIGHT NOW is feed him. That way his own system can start the healing process.”

“Feed him?” Jones said weakly. “Like, feed him…blood?”

“No, peanut butter – OF COURSE blood you nitwit.” Khan sighed in frustration. “Preferably human blood mixed with Fae. That should at least keep him stable.”

Christoph picked up a small stone and weaved a set of fiery symbols about it. Baird watched as the stone morphed into a small cup. “Young dragon, lend me your dagger, please.”

“Why?” Stone asked, afraid he knew the answer.

“Because I am Fae blood, near as old as the warlord and of a pure, unbroken bloodline. We can mix my blood with human and, as the young dragon says, the old warlord’s own body will begin to heal itself.”

Khan pulled a blade from his boot then reached for the cup. “Best it be me instead of you, old man. I’m dragon blood, like he is, so it might be more compatible coming from me.”

“I categorically refuse to feed from my children” Vlad protested, shifting in his seat. 

Khan shrugged. “I’m not your kid so really no point to this argument.”

“Wrong” Vlad growled, his eyes starting to turn a low simmering red. “I may not have sired you, boy, but you have sat at my table, broke bread with my children and I and become a part of our family. And, as it happens, you and I have the same blood. Somewhere in the past I must have sired one of your ancestors. So that DOES make you my child, despite what that idiot Archangel Gabriel may think. And with that - I have no intention…”

Rowan tightened her grip on her parents arm, anchoring him to the floor. ”We can discuss genealogy later. Right now you’ll do what Khan says you need to do” she lectured, her eyes drifting towards her still enraged elder brother. 

“If we’re doing this, then it should be me” Arthur snarled. “I’m his eldest son.”

“What part of I have no intention of feeding off my children do you three not understand?” Vlad replied in exasperation. He glanced up at Jenkins, who was still leaning against the door. “Sir Galahad, have you nothing to say about this? This madman seems determined not to hear a word I’m saying – perhaps he will be more willing to listen to you.”

“I’ve learned its best not to be within reach when my friend is on the edge. He tends to be a bit testy when he’s angry.” Jenkins sighed, removing his blood soaked jacket and dropping it on the floor. “At any rate – you will need human blood for your mixture. Allow me to offer my own.” He knelt carefully on the dust floor beside the injured man, holding out his arm. 

Khan glanced at Christoph with a frown. “Not sure his will work – considering how he acquired his immortality.”

“It probably won’t hurt” Christoph mused. “Though I would prefer it be mortal blood than immortal.”

Vlad gritted his teeth in frustration at the discussion of his condition. “If that bloody Throne Zaphiel had not picked the absolute worst time to return to the Silver City where I can’t reach him we could be already be done with this nonsense. He could take me back to my home where our Healers could tend to me and that would be that.” He grimaced in distaste. “The old sod will laugh his feathery ass off when he hears about this. He’s forever telling me I’m too rash in the field of combat – just like all young soldiers. Never mind that fact I’m almost a millennium old – but to him that’s barely out of my infancy.”

Khan threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, bro, there’s the proof the old man isn’t as bad off as you think he is. If the one thing he’s worried about is his angelic gambling buddy laughing at him he can’t be hurt too bad.”

Jenkins watched with relief as Arthur’s eyes slowly turned from red to blue and a slight smile started to emerge. “Well, hell dad, don’t scare me like that.”

“Anyone want to tell me what happened?” Baird asked, somberly, keeping one eye on the Countess.

“I was taking point as my eyesight in the dark is better than these two – or so I thought.” Vlad waved a hand in general direction of Jenkins and Arthur. “I saw our quarry just ahead of me, scrambling on the ground as though she had just fallen. When I reached her to pull her up, she rounded on me with something in her hand. Normally it would have just skated off my chain but this nail managed somehow to find a way for itself through the links and into me. Needless to say, the rest of the encounter was not pleasant in the slightest.”

“Does ANYTHING bother you?” Stone asked, secretly impressed with the act the old man was putting on. Stone had seen enough work place accidents to know the warlord was hiding his pain from his children under a façade of calm. And from the way Arthur had blasted into the room, it probably was a good thing he was. The way Candice/Countess Elizabeth was cradling her arm he suspected that meat suit the witch was wearing wouldn’t survive another round with the angry Phoenix.

“Not if I can help it” Vlad replied with a weary smile. “So, now that we have our quarry back here please tell me you lot have a way to make the switch.”

Christoph reached across and took the blade from Khan’s hand. Opening a shallow cut on his palm he poured a small stream of blood into the make-shift cup, ten passing the cup to Jenkins did the same for him. He handed the cup to Khan who swirled the blood to mix it, muttering some form of incantation before handing it to Vlad. “Here, take a swig of this. Once I know your stable we can talk about what to do with the bitch.”

Vlad shook his head in weary amusement. “Language boy, there are actually ladies present.”

“Yeah – both of which probably could make me blush if they thought about it” Khan laughed. “Drink up.”


	27. Lull before the storm

Flynn watched, mesmerized, as the old warlord drank the blood given to him. The elder Fae had swallowed the contents of the little stone cup in one gulp and laid it aside with a sigh. “Eve – watch” he whispered to his Guardian, waving a hand slightly in the direction of the old man. “See?” 

Eve blinked as she watched the warlord’s short greying hair and beard turn coal black and his normally pale complexion turn ruddy. His face filled out slightly, with the few signs of aging smoothing out. “Oh – yeah, right” she whispered with a shrug. “His… condition.”

“The warlord will be fine for now” Jenkins sighed, pressing his handkerchief to the wound on his hand. He glanced over at the two women still cowering against the far wall, wondering how Arthur planned to deal with their crimes. With the small infusion of his and Master Christoph’s blood Arthur’s father’s condition was stabilized, which meant his son’s temper would be cooled as well. After his experience with the King Phoenix’s anger over Nicole Noone he had little hope that Flynn Carson would be able to talk the Fae ruler out of exerting his own brand of justice over all the surviving participants. “We still need to deal with getting Miss Candice out of the soul cage and back into her own body.”

“Yes – about that” Christoph replied slowly, retrieving the phone from where Rowan had dropped it. He swiped through a few screens, flicking a bit of ectoplasm away as he did so. “Something about what was revealed by what Thanatos retrieved for the Queen has me doubting our original hypothesis.”

“Which part of it?” Khan asked, frowning at his teacher. 

“The part where a spell was set up to switch out a soul in the box for a soul in a living body” Christoph said. “This incantation would or should be very specific. It is meant to open the door for the Countess to exit her part of the soul cage and take over the body of her descendant while putting the young woman’s soul in the cage in her place. But…”

“But what?” Vlad asked, shifting painfully in his seat.

“But there isn’t enough blood visible here to make this work properly. We’ve assumed that a blood sacrifice was used to power the spell and that the two women were then transferred in place – but I fear we’re making an assumption based on evidence not on record.” Christoph stared down at the phone for a second than set it aside. “There isn’t any blood visible in that tub to constitute a good blood sacrifice.”

“DuLac ran a blade through his right-hand woman” Stone commented, glancing quickly into the tub. “There wasn’t a whole lot of blood after he did that. Maybe it didn’t take much?”

Christoph frowned. “From what I have been able to gather about that little situation, the spell worked because the woman loved the creature who stabbed her and had been willing to do anything for him – though I suspect she never expected to be stabbed to death as payment for her devotion. This spell, however, is somewhat different. The Countess’s minions were trying not only to open a magical door to a soul cage but trade out one being for another. We’ve been assuming that the young woman’s soul was put in the section of the cage that the Countess had inhabited, the spot meant to house, for lack of a better word, warden of the prison. But what if she was not? No one here has much access to magic other than what the Book is willing to share. And certainly none of these people had any experience with crafting such a spell. If they were more practiced, more powerful I would concede that such an incantation might be done with a minimum of fuss and muss but…” The old necromancer frowned down at the electronic device in his hand. “I have a very bad feeling about what might have actually been done in this room.”

Eve stared at the old Necromancer in horror. “Are you trying to say Candice could have been dropped in with what was left of those souls who had been imprisoned for centuries?”

“Probably – and I suspect we’re not getting her out of there without releasing the others along with her.” Christoph shook his head, his eyes sad. “And then, of course, there is the issue of time. Time, I suspect, runs differently in the cage than it does here. To us, she’s been imprisoned for only a few hours but to her…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “The length of time may matter greatly. As was discussed before, many of those souls still in existence in the cage are probably at this point more feral animals then humans. We don’t know what this poor girl has experienced in their presence – or if she has enough strength of mind and body to survive if she were released.”

“So you’re suggesting we leave her and them in there?” Stone asked, aghast. “What happens with the Countess then? She just gets to saunter off in a new meat suit that doesn’t belong to her? No way in HELL I’m down with rewarding her for stealing someone else’s life!”

“Chill dude! I think I know what my teacher is suggesting” Khan replied slowly. “We don’t have time to figure out how to pick out Candice from the others – so we need to release all of them and let Death do its job. Let Azrael and her brethren take these souls to their proper rewards be it Heaven or Hell.”

"Actually - what I'm suggesting is that we may have to send all the souls in that box - including Miss Candice - to their just rewards. If I'm right - the only thing still animating the body the Countess currently is inhabiting is the Countess herself. Again - this is more supposition than fact in evidence but I believe that rather than take the risk of the exchange not holding the Countess's servants may have taken the path of least resistance in performing a blood sacrifice to release their mistress."

"You think they killed Candice, then switched out the souls quickly to keep the body from being uninhabitable?" Rowan murmured.

"That's a distinct possibility" Vlad replied from his seat on the floor. "I vaguely remember a conversation with Lucifer's demon Maze where she mentioned Lucifer had banned possession by his demons ages ago. Before that decree, the infernal hosts could take over a newly dead body and make it their own. Perhaps that's what this spell accomplished for the Countess?"

"Exactly" Christoph agreed. "And if this is what happened then even if we are able to take the girl from the cage it is possible the only freedom we can offer her is the freedom of death. But again - this is conjecture on my part. We won't know for certain until we have Death in the room with those lost souls to sort them to their final destinations." 

"Why does the thought of that solution to our problem not fill me with joy?" Baird muttered, glancing over at Flynn. 

Flynn silently agreed, feeling a little sick at the thought of a return of the dark figure they had seen before. His eyes darted between the glass box holding the Book of Shadows and the figure seated in the tub – the Countess smirking at their dilemma. “What about her? I'm not any happier about her maybe staying in that body if we can't force an exchange than Stone is. Would this winnowing of the souls include hers? Technically, she's alive even if she's in another body. ”

“We can, with help, force her out of that body and with nothing else to inhabit Death can deal with her as well. Problem is…” Arthur looked at his sister in sadness. “How many Death deities do you know, Sissy? I think we may need more than just Thantos to corral all the entities that come out of that cage.”

“Azrael” she murmured, focusing her eyes on the wall. “She’s the main one – the Angel of Death sent by our boss to deal with end of life situations. Of her brethren I’m acquainted with Thanatos, Baron Samedi, the Morrigan…” she frowned for a moment then sighed. “And of course there is Anubis and Nephthys – can’t call the others without calling them.”

Vlad sighed. “Lovely – I haven’t spoken with either Nephthys or the Morrigan in ages. I really was hoping…”

Arthur grinned mischievously at Jenkins. “Don’t tell me… you hooked up with them?”

“We didn’t call it “hooking up” then” Vlad complained. “And frankly the last thing we need is you and your brother making bad jokes at my expense when and if they decide to make their presence known.”

“Can we PLEASE get serious here for a minute?” Baird looked at her Librarians and shrugged. “The sooner we get Candice out of the soul cage the better her chances are of surviving this little clusterfuck. So that being said – what do we need to do to make something happen?”

“Well” Rowan replied, looking back at Christoph. “First – we need to send a message to Death.”


End file.
